BEING A TRUE CHRONICLE HISTORY OF THE Untimely death of such unfortunate Princes and men of Note, as have happened since the first entrance of BRUTUS into this Island, until this our latter Age,  
WHEREUNTO IS ADDED THE FAMOUS LIFE AND DEATH OF QUEEN ELIZABETH, with a declaration of all the Wars, Battles and Sea-fights, wherein at large is described the Battle of 88 with the particular service of all such Ships, and men of note in that action.  Country fortune nulne peut. 
AT LONDON, Imprinted by F. K. for William Aspley, and are to besold at his shop in Paul's Churchyard at the Sign of the Parrot. 1619.   


Love and live.   
TO THE NOBILITY AND ALL OTHER IN OFFICE, GOD GRANT Increase of wisdom, with all things necessary for preservation of their estates. Amen.  
AMongst the wise (right Honourable) whose sentences (for the most part) tend either to teach the attaining of virtue or eschewing of vice, Plotinus 
Plotinus.  that wonderful and excellent Philosopher hath these words: The property of Temperance is to covet nothing which may be repent: not to exceed the bands of measure, and to keep Desire under the yoke of Reason. Which saying if it were so well known, as it is needful; so well embraced, as is wished; or so surely fixed in mind, as it is printed in his works: then certes many Christians might by the instruction of an Ethnic Philosopher, shun great and dangerous perils. For to covet without consideration, to pass the measure of his degree, and to let will run at random, is the only destruction of all estates. Else how were it possible, so many learned, politic, wise, renowned, valiant, and victorious personages, might ever have come to such utter decay? For example, we have Alexander the Great, Caesar, Pompey, Cyrus, Hannibal, etc. All which (by desire of glory) felt the reward of their immoderate and insatiable 
Quintus Curtius.  lusts: for if Alexander had been content with Macedon, or not been puffed up with pride after his triumphs, he had never been so miserably poisoned. If Caesar and Pompey had been satisfied with their victories, and had not fell to civil dissension, the one had not been slain in the Senate with daggers, nor the other abroad, by their friend's procurement. If Cyrus had been pleased 
●ustinus ●●b. 1.  with all Persia, & Media, and not thirsted for blood, he had never come to so infortunate a fall. So if Hannibal had not so much delighted in glory of warfare, his country had neither fell in ruin, 
Plutarch. ●iuius. Colybius.  nor he been miserably forced to poison himself. But you will say, desire of fame, glory, renown, and immortality (to which all men well nigh by nature are inclined, especially those which excel or have any singular gift of fortune or the body) moved them to such dangerous, great, and hardy enterprises, which must needs be confessed as an infallible verity: and therefore I surely deem those Princes above specified (considering their fortunes, fame, and exploits) had never come to such end, but for want of temperance. And now sith there are three other Cardinal virtues which are requisite in him that should be in authority: that is to say, Prudence, justice, and Fortitude, which so wonderfully adorn and beautify all estates (If Temperance be with them adjoined, that they move the very enemies with admiration to praise them) some peradventure (as affection leads) will commend one, some another: as Aristotle the Prince of Philosopher's names Prudence, the mother of virtues, but Cicero 
Aristot. Cicero. Prudence.  defines her the knowledge of things which ought to be desired and followed, and also of them which ought to be fled and eschewed; yet you shall find that for want of Temperance, some which were counted very wise, fell into wonderful reproach and infamy. But justice that incomparable virtue, (as the ancient Civilians define her) is a perpetual and constant will which giveth to every man his right, yet if she be not constant, which is the gift of Fortitude; nor equal in discerning right from wrong, wherein is Prudence; nor use proportion in judgement and sentence, which pertaineth to Temperance: she can never be called equity or justice, but fraud, deceit, injustice and injury. And, to speak of Fortitude, which Cicero defineth, a considerate undertaking 
Fortitude. Cicero.  of perils, and enduring of labours; if he whom we suppose stout, valiant, and of good courage, want Prudence, justice, or Temperance, he is not counted wise, righteous and constant, but sottish, rude and desperate. For Temperance (saith Cicero) is of reason in lust and other evil 
Cicero. Temperance.  assaults of the mind, a sure and moderate dominion and rule. This noble virtue is divided into three parts, that is, Continency, Clemency, and Modesty, which well observed and kept (if grace be to them adjoined) it is impossible for him that is endued with the above named virtues ever to fall into the infortunate snares of calamity, or misfortune. But Ambition, which is immoderate desire of honour, rule, dominion, and superiority, (the very destruction of nobility and common weals, as among the Romans; Sylla, Marius, Carbo, Cinna, Catiline, Pompey and Caesar, are witnesses) hath brought great decay to our country, and countrymen. But I have here (Right Honourable) in this book only reproved folly in those which are heedless: Injury in extortioners, rashness in ventures, treachery in traitors, riot in rebels, and excess in such as suppress not unruly affections. Now I trust you will so think of it (although the style deserve not like commendation) as you thought of the other part. Which if you shall, I doubt not but it may pleasure some; if not, yet give occasion to others which can do better, either to amend these, or to publish their own. And thus wishing your Prudence to discern what is meet for your callings, justice in the administration of your functions, Fortitude in the defence of your Country, and Temperance in moderation of all your affections, with increase of honours, and everlasting felicity: I bid you in Christ jesus farewell.  
At Winceham the 7. day of December. 1586. Your most humble in the Lord, JOHN HIGINS.   

TO THE READER.  
TO acquaint you in brief with what is done in this impression: know that the verse is in proportion by measure, and in symphony or rithmos, in divers places amended; the story in some places false and corrupted, made historically true; the tragedies wrongly inserted, disposed in their proper places, according to just computation of time; those never before collected in one volume, published in this impression: for the form and frame of the whole history I did intend to have reduced it into the same order, which I have observed in my Additions; but prevented by other occasions, I have thus digested it. The tragedies from the time of Brute to the Conquest I have left, with dependency upon that Induction written by M. Higins: Those from the Conquest to this our last age, that is, to the fall of the Lord Cromwell, excellently well penned by M. Drayton, hath reference to that golden Preface called M. Sackuils' Induction. After these I have placed my Additions, the falls of such Princes as were before omitted, and my Poem or Hymn of the late dead Queen of famous memory. In all which I require no other gratification for my pains, but a gentle censure of my imperfections.   

THE CONTENTS of the book.  

HOw King Albanact the youngest son of Brutus, and first King of Albany (now called Scotland) was slain by King Humber. Pag. 1.  
2 How Humber the King of Huns minding to conquer Britain, was drowned in the arm of sea now called Humber. 18.  
3 How King Locrine the eldest son of Brutus lived viciously, and was slain in battle by his wife Queen Guendoline. 22.  
4 How Queen Elstride the Concubine of King Locrine, was miserably drowned by Queen Guendoline. 27.  
5 How the Lady Sabrine daughter of King Locrine and Elstride, was drowned by Queen Guendoline. 38.  
6 How King Madan for his evil life was slain by wolves. 44.  
7 How King Malin was slain by his brother King Mempricius. 47.  
8 How King Mempricius given all to lust, was devoured by wolves. 50.  
9 How King Bladud taking on him to fly, fell upon the Temple of Apollo, and broke his neck. 53.  
10 How Queen Cordila in despair slew herself. 59  
11 How King Morgan of Albany was slain at Glamorgan in Wales. 69.  
12 How King jago died of the Lethargy. 72.  
13 How King Forrex was slain by his brother King Porrex. 74.  
14 How King Porrex which slew his brother, was slain by his own mother and her maidens. 78.  
15 How King Pinnar was slain in battle by Mulmucius Donwallo. 80.  
16 How King Stater was slain in battle by Mulmucius Donwallo. 82.  
17 How King Rudacke of Wales was slain in battle by Mulmucius Donwallo. 83.  
18 How the noble King Brennus after many triumphant victories, at the siege of Delphos in Greece slew himself. 86.  
19 How King Kimarus was devoured by wild beasts. 103.  
20 How King Morindus was devoured by a monster. 106.  
21 How King Emerianus for his tyranny was deposed. 110.  
22 How King Cherinnus given to drunkenness, reigned but one year. 111.  
23 How King Varianus gave himself to the lusts of the flesh. 112.  
24 How the worthy Britain Duke Nennius encountered with julius Caesar, and was unfortunately slain. 114.  
25 How the Lord Irenglas cousin to King Cassibellane, was slain by the Lord Elenine cousin to Androgeus' Earl of London. 123.  
26 How Caius julius Caesar, which first made this Realm tributory to the Romans, was slain in the Senate house. 129.  
27 How Claudius Tiberius Nero Emperor of Rome, was poisoned by Caius Caligula. 139.  
28 How Caius Caesar Caligula Emperor of Rome, was slain by Cherea and others. 145.  
29 How Guiderius King of Britain, the elder son of Cimbaline, was slain in battle by a Roman. 146.  
30 How Lelius Hamo the Roman Captain was slain after the slaughter of Guiderius. 148.  
31 How Claudius Tiberius Drusus Emperor of Rome, was poisoned by his wife Agrippina. 149.  
32 How the Emperor Domitius Nero lived wickedly and tyrannously, and in the end miserably slew himself. 152.  
33 How Sergius Galba the Emperor of Rome (given to slaughter, ambition, & gluttony) was slain by the soldiers. 155.  
34 How the vicious Silvius Otho Emperor of Rome, slew himself. 157.  
35 How Aulus Vitellius Emperor of Rome, came to an unfortunate end. 159.  
36 How Londricus the Pict was slain by King Marius of Britain. 161.  
37 How Severus the Emperor of Rome and Governor of Britain was slain at York, fight against the Picts. 163.  
38 How Fulgentius a Scythian or Pict, was slain at the siege of York. 167.  
39 How Geta the younger son of the Emperor Severus once Governor of Britain, was slain in his mother's arms, by his brother Anthony Emperor of Rome. 170.  
40 How Aurelius Antonius Bassianus Caracalla Emperor of Rome, was slain by one of his own servants. 174.  
41 How Carrassus a Husbandman's son, and after King of Britain, was slain in battle by Alectus a Roman. 185.  
42 How Queen Helena of Britain married Constantius the Emperor, and much advanced the Christian faith through the whole world. 289.  
43 How Vortiger destroyed the young King Constantine, and how he obtained the crown: & how after many miseries he was miserably burnt in his Castle by the brethren of Constantine. 203.  
44 How Uter Pendragon was enamoured on the wife of Gorolus Duke of Cornewal, whom he slew, and after was poisoned by the Saxons. 213.  
45 How Cadwallader the last King of the Britain's, was expelled by the Saxons, went to Rome, and there lived in a religious house. 219.  
46 How Sigebert for his wicked life was thrust from his throne and miserably slain by an herdsman. 225.  
47 How Lady Ebb did slay her nose and upper lip away to save her virginity. 235.  
48 How King Egelred for his wickedness was diversly distressed by the Danes, and lastly died for sorrow. 239.  
49 How King Harrold had continual war with the Danes, with the Norway King, with his brother Tostius, and was at last slain in battle by William the Conqueror. 245.   

From the Conquest.  
50 M. Sackuils' Induction. 255.  
51 How the two Rogers surnamed Mortimer, for their sundry vices ended their lives unfortunately. 271.  
52 The fall of Robert tresilian Chief justice of England, and other his fellows, for misconstruing the Laws, and expounding them to serve the Prince's affections. 276.  
53 How Sir Thomas of Woodstock Duke of Gloucester uncle to King Richard the second, was unlawfully murdered. 281.  
54 How the Lord Mowbrey, promoted by King Richard the second to the state of a Duke, was by him banished the Realm, and after died miserably in exile. 287.  
55 How King Richard the second was for his evil governance deposed from his seat, and murdered in prison. 293.  
56 How Owen Glendour seduced by false prophecies, took upon him to be Prince of Wales, and was by Henry Prince of England chased to the mountains, where he miserably died for lack of food. 296.  
57 How Henry Percy Earl of Northumberland, was for his covetous and traitorous attempt put to death at York. 303.  
58 How Richard Plantagenet Earl of Cambridge, intending the King's destruction, was put to death at Southampton. 307.  
59 How Thomas Montague Earl of Salisbury, in the midst of his glory was unfortunately slain at Oleance with a piece of Ordnance. 309.  
60 How Dame Eleanor Cobham Duchess of Gloucester, for practising of Witchcraft and sorcery Suffered open penance, and afterward was banished the Realm into the I'll of man.. 317.  
61 How Humphrey Plantagenet Duke of Gloucester, Protector of England, during the minority of his nephew King Henry the sixth, commonly called the good Duke, by practice of enemies was brought to confusion. 327.  
62 How Lord William de la Pole Duke of Suffolk, was worthily banished for abusing his King, and causing the destruction of the good Duke Humphrey. 340.  
63 How jack Cade naming himself Mortimer, traitorously rebelling against his King, was for his treasons and cruel doings worthily punished. 345.  
64 The tragedy of Edmund Duke of Somerset, slain in the first battle at S. Albon, in the 32. year of Henry the sixth. 350.  
65 How Richard Plantagenet Duke of York, was slain through his rash boldness, and his son the Earl of Rutland for his lack of valiancy. 360.  
66 How the Lord Clifford for his strange and abominable cruelty, came to as strange and sudden a death. 365.  
67 The infamous end of Lord Tiptoft Earl of Worcester, for cruelly executing his Princes butcherly commandments. 367.  
68 How Sir Richard Nevil Earl of Warwick, and his brother john, Lord marquess Montacute, through their too much boldness were slain at Barnet. 371.  
69 How King Henry the sixth a virtuous Prince, was after many other miseries cruelly murdered in the Tower of London. 375.  
70 How George Plantagenet third son of the Duke of York, was by his brother King Edward wrongfully imprisoned, and by his brother Richard miserably murdered. 380.  
71 How King Edward the fourth through his surfeiting & untemperate life, suddenly died in the midst of his prosperity. 392.  
72 How Sir Anthony Wooduile Lord Rivers and Scales, Governor of Prince Edward, was with his nephew Lord Richard Grey and other causeless imprisoned and cruelly murdered. 394.  
73 How the Lord Hastings was betrayed by trusting too much to his evil counsellor Catesby, and villainously murdered in the Tower of London by Richard Duke of Gloucester. 411.  
74 The complaint of Henry Duke of Buckingham. 433.  
75 How Colingborne was cruelly executed for making a Rhyme. 455.  
76 The wilful fall of the Blacksmith, and the foolish end of the Lord Audley. 463.  
77 How the valiant Knight Sir Nicholas Burdet, Chief Butler of Normandy, was slain at Pontoise. 477.  
78 How Shores wife, King Edward the fourth's Concubine, was by King Richard despoiled of her goods, and forced to do open penance. 494.  
79 How Thomas Woolsey did arise unto great authority and government, his manner of life, pomp and dignity, & how he fell down into great disgrace, and was arrested of high treason. 506.  
80 How the Lord Cromwell exalted from mean estate, was after by the envy of the Bishop of Winchester and other his complices brought to untimely end. 520.   

The Additions.  
81 The life and death of King Arthur. 561.  
82 The life and death of King Edmund Ironside. 585.  
83 The life and death of Prince Alfred. 603.  
84 The life and death of Godwin Earl of Kent. 617.  
85 The life and death of Robert surnamed Curthose Duke of Normandy. 631.  
86 The life and death of King Richard the first surnamed Coeur de Lion. 659.  
87 The life and death of King john. 681.  
88 The life and death of King Edward the second. 703.  
89 The life and death of the two young Princes, sons to Edward the fourth. 736.  
90 The life and death of King Richard the third. 750.  
91 The Poem annexed called England's Eliza. 783.   
The end of the Contents.   

THOMAS NEWTON TO THE Reader, in the behalf of this book.  

AS when an arming sword of proof is made,  
Both steel and iron must be tempered well:  
(For iron gives the strength unto the blade,  
And steel, in edge doth cause it to excel)  
As each good Blade-smith by his Art can tell:  
For, without iron, brittle will it break,  
And without steel, it will be blunt and weak:   

So books, that now their faces dare to show,  
Must metaled be with nature and with skill:  
For nature causeth stuff enough to flow,  
And Art the same contrives by learned quill  
In order good, and currant method still.  
So that, if Nature frown, the case is hard:  
And if Art want, the matter all is marred.   

The work, which here is offered to thy view,  
With both these points is full and fitly fraught;  
Set forth by sundry of the learned Crew:  
Whose stately styles have Phoebus' garland caught,  
And Parnasse mount their worthy work have reached:  
Their words are thundered with such majesty,  
As fitteth right each matter in degree.   

Read it therefore, but read attentively,  
Consider well the drift whereto it tends:  
Confer the times, perpend the history,  
The party's states, and eke their doleful ends,  
With odd events, that divine justice sends.  
For things forepast are precedents to us,  
Whereby we may things present now discuss.   

Certes this world a Stage may well be called,  
Whereon is played the part of every wight:  
Some, now aloft, anon with malice galled,  
Are from high state brought into dismal plight.  
Like counters are they, which stand now in sight  
For thousand or ten thousand, and anon  
Removed, stand perhaps for less than one.   
Thomas Newtonus, Cestreshyrius.   

THE authors Induction.  

WHen Summer sweet, with all her pleasures past,  
And leaves began to leave the shady tree,  
The winter cold increased on full fast,  
And time of year to sadness moved me:  
For moisty blasts not half so mirthful be,  
As sweet Aurora brings in spring-time fair,  
Our joys they dim, as winter damps the air.   

The nights began to grow to length apace,  
Sir Phoebus to th' Antarctique 'gan to far:  
From Libraes lance to th' Crab he took his race  
Beneath the line, to lend of light a share.  
For then with us the days more darkish are,  
More short, cold, moist, and stormy cloudy clit,  
For sadness more than mirths or pleasures fit.   

Devising then what books were best to read,  
Both for that time, and sentence grave also,  
For conference of friend to stand in stead:  
When I my faithful friend was parted fro,  
I gate me strait the Printers shops unto,  
To seek some work of price I surely meant,  
That might alone my careful mind content.   

Amongst the rest, I found a book so sad,  
As time of year or sadness could require:  
The mirror named for Magistrates he had,  
So finely penned, as hear could well desire:  
Which when I read, so set my heart on fire,  
eftsoons it me constrained to take the pain,  
Not left with once, to read it once again.   

And as again I viewed this work with heed,  
And marked plain each party paint his fall:  
Me thought in mind, I saw those men indeed,  
Eke how they came in order Princely all;  
Declaring well, this life is but a thrall,  
Sith those on whom for Fortune's gifts we stare,  
Oft soon sink in greatest seas of care.   

For some perdie, were Kings of high estate,  
And some were Dukes, and came of regal race:  
Some Princes, Lords, and judges great that sat  
In counsel still, decreeing every case:  
Some other Knights that vices did embrace,  
Some Gentlemen, some poor exalted high:  
Yet every one had played his tragedy.   

A Mirror well it might be called, a glass  
As clear as any crystal under Sun:  
In each respect the Tragedies so pass,  
Their names shall live that such a work begun.  
For why, with such Decorum is it done,  
That Momus spite with more than Argus' eyes,  
Can never watch, to keep it from the wise.   

Examples there for all estates you find,  
For judge (I say) what justice he should use:  
The noble man to bear a noble mind,  
And not himself ambitiously abuse;  
The Gentleman ungentleness refuse:  
The rich and poor, and every one may see,  
Which way to love, and live in due degree.   

I wish them often well to read it than,  
And mark the causes why those Princes fell:  
But let me end my tale that I began.  
When I had read these Tragedies full well,  
And past the winter evenings long to tell,  
One night at last I thought to leave this use,  
To take some ease before I changed my Muse.   

Wherefore away from reading ay me gate,  
My heavy head waxed dull for want of rest:  
I laid me down, the night was waxed late,  
For lack of sleep mine eyes were sore oppressed:  
Yet fancy still of all their deaths increased,  
Me thought my mind from them I could not take,  
So worthy wights, as caused me to wake.   

At last appeared clad in purple black  
Sweet Somnus, rest which comforts each alive;  
By ease of mind, that wears away all wrack,  
That noisome night from weary wits doth drive,  
Of labours long the pleasures we achieve.  
Whereat I joyed, sith after labours past,  
I might enjoy sweet Somnus sleep at last.   

But he by whom I thought myself at rest,  
revived all my fancies fond before:  
I more desirous, humbly did request  
Him show th' unhappy Albion Princes yore:  
For well I wist, that he could tell me more,  
Sith unto divers, Somnus erst had told  
What things were done in elder times of old.   

Then strait he forth his servant Morpheus called,  
On Higins here thou must (quoth he) attend;  
The Britain Peers to bring (whom Fortune thralled)  
From Lethean lake, and th' ancient shapes them lend;  
That they may show why, how, they took their end.  
I will (quoth Morpheus) show him what they were;  
And so me thought I saw them strait appear.   

One after one, they came in strange attire,  
But some with wounds and blood were so disguised,  
You scarcely could by reason's aid aspire,  
To know what war such sundry deaths devised;  
And severally those Princes were surprised.  
Of former state, these States gave ample show,  
Which did relate their lives and overthrow.   

Of some the faces bold and bodies were  
Distained with woad, and Turkish beards they had:  
On th' over lips mutchatoes long of hair,  
And wild they seemed, as men despairing mad;  
Their looks might make a constant heart full sad:  
And yet I could not so forsake the view,  
Nor presence, ere their minds I likewise knew.   

For Morpheus bade them each in order tell  
Their names and lives, their haps and hapless days,  
And by what means from Fortune's wheel they fell,  
Which did them erst unto such honours raise.  
Wherewith the first not making more delays,  
A noble Prince broad wounded breast that bore  
Drew near, to tell the cause of all his care.   

Which when me thought to speak he might be bold,  
Deep from his breast he threw an uncouth sound:  
I was amazed his gestures to behold:  
And blood that freshly trickled from his wound,  
With echo so did half his words confound,  
That scarce a while the sense might plain appear:  
At last, me thought, he spoke as you shall hear.    

Faults escaped.  
PAge 555. lin. 17. brows, read bows. p. 566. l. 10. left, r. let. p. 579. l. 3. sh r. shore. p. 583. l. 13. speele, r. steel. p. eadem l. 15 veins flow, r. veins did flow. p. 588. l. 3. nor, r. not. p. 599. l. 28. approth, r. approach, p. 600. l. 11. t'abate, r. to abate p. 629. l. 23. this, r. his. p. 636. l. 5. foe, r. woe. p. 657. l. 16. soee, r. loare. p. 671. l 32. with Austrian, r. with th' Austrian. p. 682. l. 7. let, r. le's. p. 683. l. 37. to obtain, r. t'obtain. p. 706. l. 15. ay, r. O. p. 728. l. 15. But, r. Blunt, in some copies. p. 793. marg. Anno Reg. 51. r. 15. p. 834. l. 13. recoiled r. recoil. p. 855. l. 30. throne, r. chair. 866. l. 25. house tops, r. houses tops.   


HOW KING ALBANACT THE YOUNGEST SON OF BRUTUS, AND FIRST KING OF Albany (now called Scotland) was slain by king Humber, the year before Christ, 1085.  

Sigh flattering Fortune slily could beguile  
Me first, of Britain Princes in this land:  
And yet at first on me did sweetly smile,  
Behold me here, that first in presence stand.  
And when thou well my wounded corpse hast scanned,  
Then shalt thou hear my hap to pen the same  
In stories called Albanactae by name.   

Lay fear aside, let nothing thee amaze,  
Ne have despair, ne 'scuse the want of time:  
Leave off on me with fearful looks to gaze,  
Thy pen may serve for such a tale as mine.  
First I will tell thee of my father's line,  
Then why he flying from the Latin land  
Did sail the seas and found the Briton strand.   

And last I mind to tell thee of myself,  
My life and death, a Tragedy so true  
As may approve your world is all but pelf,  
And pleasures sweet, whom sorrows aye ensue.  
Hereafter eke in order comes a crew,  
Which can declare, of worldly pleasures vain  
The price we all have bought, with pinching pain.   

When Troy was sacked, and brent, and could not stand,  
Aeneas fled from thence, Anchises son,  
And came at length to King Latinus land:  
He Turnus slew, Lavinia eke he won.  
After whose death, Ascanius next his son  
Was crowned King, and Silvius then his heir,  
Espoused to a Latin Lady fair.   

By her had Silvius shortly issue eke,  
A goodly Prince, and Brutus was his name.  
But what should I of his misfortune speak,  
For hunting, as he minded strike the game,  
He struck his father, that beyond it came.  
The quarrel glanced, and through his tender fide:  
It flew, where through the noble Silvius died.   

Lo thus by chance though princely Brutus slew  
His father Silvius, sore against his will,  
Which came too soon, as he his arrow drew,  
Though he in chase the game, did mind to kill,  
Yet was he banished from his country still,  
Commanded thither to return no more,  
Except he would his life to lose therefore.   

On this, to Greece Lord Brutus took his way,  
Where Troyans' were, by Grecians, captives kept:  
Helenus was by Pyrrhus brought away  
From death of Troyans', whom their friends bewept.  
Yet he in Greece this while no business slept,  
But by his facts, and feats obtained such fame,  
Seven thousand captive Troyans' to him came.   

Assaracus a noble Grecian eke,  
Who by his mother came of Trojan race,  
Because he saw himself in Greece too weak,  
Came unto him to aid him in this case,  
For of his brother he could find no grace,  
Which was a Greek by both his parents sides.  
His Castles three the Trojan Brutus guides.   

While he to be their Captain was content,  
And as the Troyans' gathered to his band,  
embassage to the Grecian King he sent,  
For to entreat they might depart his land.  
Which when King Pandrasus did understand,  
An army strait he did therefore address,  
On purpose all the Troyans' to suppress.   

So as King Pandrasus at Spartan town  
Thought them in deserts by, to cirumvent,  
The Troyans' with three thousand beat them down,  
Such favour lo, them Lady Fortune lent.  
By Mars his force, their rays and ranks he rend,  
And took the brother of the Grecian King,  
With others more, as captives home to bring.   

The taken town from which the King was fled,  
Sir Brutus with six hundred men did man,  
Each prisoner was unto his keeper led  
To keep in town, the noble Troyans' won:  
And into woods the Trojan gate him than  
Again with his, he kept him there by night  
To quail the Grecians if they came to fight.   

The King which called to mind his former foil,  
His flight, and brother dear by Troyans' take,  
The town he lost, where Brutus gave the spoil,  
He thought not so the field and fight forsake,  
But of his men a muster new to make,  
And so again for to besiege the town  
In hope revenge, or win his lost renown.   

By night the ambush, that his purpose knew,  
Came forth from woods, whereas they waited by,  
The Troyans' all th' unarmed Grecians slew,  
Went through their camp, none could their force deny,  
Unto the tent where Pandrasus did lie,  
Whereas Lord Brutus took their King that night,  
And saved his life as see'md a worthy wight.   

" This great exploit so wisely well at chiued,  
" The Trojan victor did a counsel call,  
" Wherein might be for their estate contrived  
" By counsel grave, the public weal of all.  
" Now tell (quoth he) what ransom ask we shall?  
" Or what will you for our avail devise?  
" To which Mempricius answered, grave and wise.   

" I cannot (Brutus) but commend thine act  
" In this, thou noble Captain worthy praise:  
" Which deemest well, it were an heinous fact,  
" T'abridge the Grecian king of vital days,  
" And that we ought by clemency to raise  
" Our fame to sky, not by a savage guise,  
" Sith Gods and men both, cruelty despise.   

" The cause we fought, was for the freedom all  
" Of Troyans' taken, we have freedom won,  
" We have our purpose, and their king withal,  
" To whom of rigour nothing ought be done:  
" Though he the quarrel with us first begun.  
" And though we owe the fall of Troy's requite,  
" Yet let revenge thereof from gods to light.   

" His subjects now bewail their proud pretence,  
" And weapons laid aside, for mercy cry:  
" They all confess their plagues to come from thence,  
" Where first from faith of Gods they seemed to fly.  
" Their Nobles dare not come the case to try,  
" But even for peace, with all their hearts, they sue,  
" And meekly grant, whence all their mischiefs grew.   

" The Princess fair, his daughter, who surmounts  
" For virtues rare, for beauty brave, and grace  
" Both Helen fine, of whom they made accounts,  
" And all the rest that come of Grecian race,  
" She for her father sues, bewails his case,  
" Implores, desires thy grace, and gods above,  
" Whose woes may them and thee to mercy move.   

" Some Troyans' say he should deposed be  
" From kingdom quite, or else be slain he should,  
" And we here bide, eke this misliketh me,  
" Nay rather while we stay keep him in hold,  
" Or let him pay a ransom large of gold,  
" And hostage give, and homage do of right  
" To thee, that wonst the field by Martial fight.   

" For kingdoms sake a captive king to kill,  
" Our names for aye with foul defame would brand;  
" For us in Greece to dwell were even as ill,  
" The force of Greece we cannot still withstand.  
" Let us therefore both cruelty aband,  
" And prudent seek both gods and men to please:  
" So shall we find good luck at land and seas.   

" Or sith the Grecians will thee for to take  
" The noble Lady junogen to wife,  
" If thou so please, let him her dowry make  
" Of gold, ships, silver, corn, for our relief,  
" And other things, which are in Graecia rife.  
" That we so fraught may seek some desert shore,  
" Where thou and thine may reign for evermore.   

This pleased both Brutus and the Troyans' all,  
Who wiled forthwith that Pandrasus the King  
Should reverently be brought into the hall.  
And present when they told him of this thing,  
So grief and sorrow great his heart did sting,  
He could not show by countenance or cheer  
That he it liked, but spoke as you shall hear.   

" Sith that the wrath of gods hath yielded me,  
" And eke my brother, captives to your hands,  
" I am content to do as pleaseth ye,  
" You have my realm, my life, my goods and lands,  
" I must be needs content as Fortune stands.  
" I give my daughter, gold, and silver fine,  
" With what for dowry else you crave is mine.   

To make my tale the shorter if I may,  
This truce concluded was immediately:  
And all things else performed by a day,  
The King restored that did in prison lie.  
The Troyans' proud of spoils and victory,  
Did hoist up sails, in two days and a night  
Upon the I'll of Lestrigons they light.   

And leaving of their ships at road, to land  
They wandering went the country for to view:  
Lo there a desert city old they found,  
And eke a temple (if report be true)  
Where Diana dwelled of whom the Trojan crew  
In sacrifice their captain counsel gave  
For good success, a seat and soil to crave.   

And he no whit misliking their advice  
Went forth, and did before the altar hold  
In his right hand a cup to sacrifice,  
Filled both with wine, and white hinds blood scarce cold.  
And then before her stature strait he told  
Devoutly all his whole petition there,  
In sort (they say) as is repeated here.   

O goddess great in groves that putst wild boars in fearful fear,  
And mayst go all the compass paths of every airy sphere,  
Eke of th' infernal houses too, resolve the earthly rights,  
And tell what country in to dwell thou giv'st us Trojan wights.  
Assign a certain seat where I shall worship thee for ay,  
And where replete with virgins, I erect thy temples may.   

When nine times he had spoken this, and went  
Four times the altar round, and stayed again,  
He poured the wine and blood in hand he hent  
Into the fire. O witless cares of men,  
Such folly mere, and blindness great was then.  
But if religion now bids toys farewell,  
Embrace that's good, the vice of times I tell.   

He laid him then down by the altars side,  
Upon the white Hinds skin espred therefore:  
It was the third hour of the night, a tide  
Of sweetest sleep, he gave himself the more  
To rest surely. Then seemed him before  
Diana chaste, the goddess to appear,  
And spoke to him these words that you shall hear.   

O Brute, far under Phoebus' fall, beyond of France that reign,  
An Island in the Ocean is, with sea 'tis compassed main,  
An Island in the Ocean is, where Giants erst did dwell:  
But now a desert place that's fit, will serve thy people well.  
To this direct thy race, for there shall be thy seat for ay,  
And to thy sons there shall be built another stately Troy.  
Here of thy progeny and stock, shall mighty Kings descend.  
And unto them as subject, all the world shall bow and bend.   

On this he work, with joyful cheer, and told  
The vision all, and oracle it gave:  
So it rejoiced their hearts a thousand fold.  
To ships they got, away the shores they drove,  
And hoisting sails, for happy winds they crave.  
In thirty days their voyage so they dight,  
That on the coast of Aphrica they light.   

Then to Philaenes altars they attained,  
(For so men call two hills erected are  
In Tunise land) two brethren ground that gained  
For Carthage once, and went 'tis said too far,  
On Cyren ground for bounds, there buried were.  
Because they would not turn again, but strive  
With Cyren men, they buried them alive.   

From thence they sailed through the middle lake,  
Between Europa fair and Aphrica the dry:  
With wind at will, the doubtful race they take,  
And sailed to Tuscan shores, on Europe coast that lie.  
Where at the last amongst the men they did descry  
Four banished bands of Troyans' in distress  
To sail with them, which did themselves address.   

Companions of Antenor in his flight.  
But Corinaeus was their captain than,  
For counsel grave a wise and worthy wight:  
In wars the praise of valiantness he won.  
Lord Brutus liked well this noble man,  
With him full oft confer of fates he would,  
And unto him the oracles he told.   

The Troyans' so in number now increased,  
Set on to sea and hoist sails to wind.  
To Hercules his pillars from the East  
They cast by compass ready way to find:  
Where through once past to Northward race they twinned,  
To Pirene cleeves, tween Spain and France the bound,  
Rejoicing near the promised I'll so found.   

Eke unto Guyne in France they failed thence,  
Where at the haven of Loire they did arrive,  
To view the country was their whole pretence  
And victuals get, their soldiers to revive.  
Eke Corinaeus lest the Galls should strive,  
Led forth two hundred of his warlike band,  
To get provision to the ships from land.   

But when the King Goffarius heard of this,  
That Troyans' were arrived on his shore,  
With Frenchmen and with Guynes their power and his,  
He came to take the prey they gate before,  
And when they met, they fought it both full sore,  
Till Corinaeus rushed into their band,  
And caused them fly: they durst no longer stand.   

First might you there seen hearts of Frenchmen broke:  
Two hundred Troyans' gave them all the soil  
At home, with odds, they durst not bide the stroke,  
Few Troyans' beat them in their native soil,  
Eke Corinaeus followed in this broil,  
So fast upon his foes before his men,  
That they returned and thought to spoil him then.   

There he alone against them all, and they  
Against him one, with all their force did fight.  
At last by chance his sword was flown away,  
By fortune on a battle axe he light,  
Which he did drive about him with such might,  
That some their hands, and some their arms did lose,  
Some legs, of some the head from shoulders flees.   

As thus amongst them all he fought with force  
And fortune great, in danger of his life,  
Lord Brutus had on him there with remorse,  
Came with a troop of men to end the strife.  
When Frenchmen saw the Troyans' force so rife  
They fled away, unto their loss and pain,  
In fight and flight nigh all their host was slain.   

And in that broil, save Corinaeus, none  
Did fight so fiercely, as did Turnus then,  
Sir Brutus cousin with his sword alone  
Did slay that time well nigh six hundred men.  
They found him dead as they returned again,  
Amongst the Frenchmen, wounded void of sense,  
And bore his noble corpse with honour thence.   

On this they bided awhile revenge to yield,  
And to inter the dead, and Turnus slain,  
They took a town not far from place of field,  
And built it strong, to vex the Galls again.  
The name they gave it still doth yet remain,  
Sith there they buried Turnus yet men call  
It Tours, and name the folk Turones all.   

Which town they left at last with Troyans' manned,  
When as their ships were stored with what they need  
Aboard, they hoist up sails and left the land,  
By aiding winds they cut the seas with speed.  
At length the shining Albion cleeves did seed  
Their gazing eyes, by means whereof they found  
Out Totnes haven, and took this promised land.   

The country seemed pleasant at the view,  
And was by few inhabited, as yet,  
Save certain Giants whom they did pursue,  
Which strait to Caves in Mountains did them get:  
So fine were Woods, and Floods, and Fountains set,  
So clear the air, so temperate the clime,  
They never saw the like before that time.   

And then this I'll that Albion had to name,  
Lord Brutus caused it Britain called to be,  
And eke the people Britan's of the same,  
As yet in ancient Records is to see,  
To Corinaeus gave he frank and free  
The land of Cornwall, for his service done,  
And for because from Giants he it won.   

Then sith our Trojan flock came first from Troy,  
The Chieftain thought that duty did him bind,  
As Fortune thus had saved him from annoy,  
The ancient town again to call to mind.  
He built new Troy, them Trojan laws assigned,  
That so his race to his eternal fame,  
Might keep of Troy the everlasting name.   

And settled there, in perfect peace and rest,  
Devoid of war, of labour, strife, or pain,  
Then junogen the Queen, his joys increased,  
A Prince she bore, and after other twain.  
Was never King of noble Imps so fain,  
Three sons which had so shortly here begat,  
Locrine, Camber, last me Albanact.   

Thus having wealth, and eke the world at will,  
Nor wanting aught that might his mind content:  
T'increase his power with wights of warlike skill  
Was all his mind, his purpose and intent.  
Whereby if foes, invasion after meant,  
The Britan's might not fear of foreign lands,  
But keep by fight, possessions in their hands.   

Eke when his people once perceived his mind,  
(As what the Prince doth often most embrace,  
To that the subjects all, are strait inclined,  
And reverence still in each respect his grace)  
They got in war such knowledge in short space,  
That after they their force to try begun,  
They cared for nought by wit or wight not won.   

Those mighty people borne of Giant's brood,  
That did possess this Ocean-bounded land,  
They did sub due, who oft in battle stood  
'Gainst them in field, until by force of hand  
They were made subject unto Brutus' command.  
Such boldness than did in the Briton dwell,  
That they in deeds of valour did excel.   

Whereby the King had cause to take delight,  
And might be bold the less to fear his foes:  
Surely each Prince may reck his enemies' spite,  
Thereafter as his force in fight he knows.  
" A princely heart the liberal gifts disclose.  
He gave to each such guerdons for their facts,  
As might them only move to noble acts.   

No labours great his subjects then refused,  
No travels that might like his regal mind:  
But each of them such exercise well used,  
Wherein was praise, or glory great to find.  
And to their liege bore faithful hearts so kind,  
That what he willed they all obeyed his hest,  
Nought else was currant, but the King's request.   

What Prince alive might more rejoice than he?  
Had faithful men, so valiant, bold, and stout:  
What pleasures more on earth could lightly be  
Then win an Isle, and live devoid of doubt?  
An Isle said I? nay named the world throughout  
Another world, sith sea doth it divide  
From all, that wants not all the world beside.   

What subjects eke, more happy were then these?  
Had such a King of such a noble heart,  
And such a land enjoyed and lived at ease,  
Whereof each man almost might choose his part.  
No fear of foes, unknown was treasons art,  
No feigning friends, no fawning Gnato's skill,  
No Thrasoes brags, but bearing each good will.   

But as each summer once receives an end,  
And as no State can stable stand for ay,  
As course of time doth cause things bow and bend,  
As every pleasure hath her ending day,  
As will can never pass the power of may:  
Even so my father happy days that spent,  
Perceived he must by sickness last relent.   

As doth the shipman well foresee the storm,  
And knows what danger lies in Syrteses of sand:  
Eke as the husbandman provides before,  
When he perceives the winter cold at hand:  
Even so the wise, that course of things have scanned,  
Can well the end of sickness great presage,  
When it is joined with years of stooping age,   

His sons and Counsel all assembled were,  
For why he sent for us and them with speed.  
We came in haste, this news did cause us fear,  
Sith so he sent, we thought him sick indeed.  
And when we all approached to him with speed,  
Too soon alas, his Grace right sick we found,  
And him saluted as our duties bound.   

And casting of his woeful eyes aside,  
Not able well to move his painful head,  
As silent we with tears his minnde abide,  
He willed himself be reared in his bed.  
Which done, with sight of us his eyes he fed,  
Eke pausing so a while for breath he stayed,  
At length to them and us, thus wise he said.   

No marvel sure, though you here with be sad  
(You noble Britain's) for your Brutus sake.  
Sith whilom me your captain stout you had,  
That now my leave and last farewell must take,  
Thus nature wills me once an end to make,  
And leave you here behind, which after me  
Shall die, as me depart before you see.   

" You wot wherefore I with the Grecians fought,  
" With dint of sword I made their force to fly:  
" Antenor's friends on Tuscan shores I sought,  
" And did them not my promised land deny.  
" By Martial power I made the Frenchmen fly,  
" Where you to save, I lost my faithful friend  
" For you; at Tours my Turnus took his end.   

" I need not now recite what love I bore,  
" My friendship you, I trust, have found so well,  
" That none amongst you all which present are,  
" With tears doth not record the tale I tell.  
" Eke whom I found for virtues to excel,  
" To them I gave the price thereof, as due  
" As they deserved, whose facts I found so true.   

" Now must I prove, if pains were well bestowed,  
" Or if I spent my grateful gifts in vain,  
" Or if these great good turns to you I owed,  
" And might not ask your loyal loves again.  
" Which if I wist, what tongue could tell my pain?  
" I mean, if you ungrateful minds do bear,  
" What meaneth death to let me linger here?   

" For if you shall abuse your Prince, in this  
" The gods on you for such an heinous fact,  
" To take revenge, be sure will never miss.  
" And then too late you shall repent the act,  
" When all my Realine, and all your wealths are sacked:  
" But if you shall as you begun, proceed,  
" Of kingdoms fall, or foes, there is no dread.   

" And to avoid contention that may fall,  
" Because I wish this Realm the Britan's still:  
" Therefore I will declare before you all  
" Sith you are come, my whole intent and will.  
" Which if you keep, and wrest it not to ill,  
" There is no doubt but evermore with fame  
" You shall enjoy the Britan's Realm and name.   

" You see my sons, that after me must reign,  
" Whom you or this have liked and counselled well.  
" You know what erst you wished they should refrain,  
" Which way they might all vices vile expel,  
" Which way they might in virtues great excel.  
" Thus if you shall, when I am gone ensue,  
" You shall discharge the trust reposed in you.   

" Be you their fathers, with your counsel wise.  
" And you my children take them even as me,  
" Be you their guides in what you can devise,  
" And let their good instructions teach you three:  
" Be faithful all: as brethren ought agree:  
" For* concord keeps a Realm in stable stay:  
" But discord brings all kingdoms to decay.   

" Record you this: to th' eldest son I give  
" This middle part of Realm to hold his own,  
" And to his heirs that after him shall live.  
" Also to Camber, that his part be known,  
" I give that land that lies well-nigh o'ergrown  
" With woods, Northwest, and mountains mighty high,  
" By South whereof, the Cornish sea doth lie.   

" And unto thee my youngest son, that art  
" Mine Albanact, I give to thee likewise  
" As much to be for thee and thine apart,  
" As North beyond the arm of sea there lies,  
" Of which lo here a Map before your eyes.  
" Lo here my sons my kingdom all you have,  
" For which (remember) nought but this I crave:   

" First, that you take these father's grave for me,  
" Embrace their counsel even as it were mine:  
" Next, that between yourselves you will agree,  
" And never one at others wealth repine.  
" See that ye bide still bound with friendly line.  
" And last, my subjects with such love retain,  
" As long they may your subjects eke remain.   

" Now faint, I feel my breath begins to fail,  
" My time is come, give each to me your hand,  
" Farewell, farewell, to mourn will not prevail,  
" I see with Knife where Atropos doth stand.  
" Farewell my friends, my children and my land,  
" And farewell all my subjects, farewell breath,  
" Farewell ten thousand times, and welcome death.   

And even with that he turned himself aside,  
Vpyeelding gasping gave away the ghost:  
Then all with mourning voice his servants cried,  
And all his subjects eke, from least to most.  
Lamenting filled with wailing plaints each coast,  
And so the Britan's all as nature bend,  
Did for their King full dolefully lament.   

But what avails, to strive against the tide,  
Or else to drive against the stream and wind?  
What booteth it against the Clives to ride,  
Or else to work against the course of kind?  
Sith Nature hath the end of things assigned,  
There is no nay, we must perforce depart,  
'Gainst dint of death, there is no ease by art.   

Thus reigned that worthy King, that found this land,  
My father Brutus, of the Trojan blood,  
And thus he died when he full well had man'd  
This noble Realm with Britan's fierce and good.  
And so a while in stable state it stood,  
Till we divided had this Realm in three,  
And I too soon received my part to me.   

Then strait through all the world 'gan Fame to fly,  
A monster swifter none is under Sun  
Increasing: as in waters we descry  
The circles small, of nothing that begun,  
Which at the length unto such breadth do come,  
That of a drop which from the skies doth fall,  
The circles spread, and hide the waters all:   

So fame in flight increaseth more and more:  
For at the first she is not scarcely known,  
But by and by she fleets from shore to shore,  
To clouds from th' earth her stature strait is grown,  
There whatsoever by her trump is blown,  
The sound that both by sea and land out flies,  
Rebounds again, and verberates the skies.   

They say, the earth that first the Giants bred,  
For anger that the gods did them dispatch,  
Brought forth this sister, of those monsters dead,  
Full light of foot, swift wings the winds to catch;  
Such monster erst did nature never hatch.  
As many Plumes she hath from top to toe,  
So many eyes them underwatch, or more.   

And tongues do speak, so many ears do hark,  
By night tween heaven she sties and earthly shade,  
And shrieking, takes no quiet sleep by dark  
On houses roofs; on towers as keeper made  
She sits by day, and Cities threats t'invade:  
And as she tells what things she sees by view,  
She rather shows thats feigned false, then true.   

She blazed abroad pardie a people small,  
Late landed here, and found this pleasant I'll,  
And how that now it was divided all,  
Made tripartite, and might within a while  
Be won by force, by treason, fraud, or guile,  
Wherefore she moves her friends to make assay  
To win the prize, and bear our pomp away.   

A thousand things beside, she bruits and tells,  
And makes the most of every thing she hears,  
Long time of us she talks, and nothing else,  
Eke what she seeth, abroad in haste she bears,  
With tattling toys and tickleth so their ears,  
That needs they must to flattering fame assent,  
Though afterwards they do therefore lament.   

By East from hence a country large doth lie,  
Hungaria eke of Huns it hath to name,  
And hath Danubius' flood on South it buy,  
Dividing quite from Austria the same.  
From thence a King was named Humber came:  
On coasts of Albany arrived he,  
In hope to be the King of Brittany.   

When by report of subjects I did hear  
How foe-men were arrived on my shore,  
I gathered all my soldiers void of fear,  
And back the Huns by force and might I bore.  
But in this battle was I hurt so sore,  
That in the field of deadly wounds I died,  
My soldiers lost their noble Prince and guide.   

Such was my fate to venture on so bold,  
My rashness was the cause of all my woe:  
Such is of all our glory vain the hold,  
So soon we pomp and pleasures all forego,  
So quickly are we reft our kingdoms fro:  
And such is all the cast of Fortune's play,  
When least we think, to cut us quite away.   

I deemed myself an heavenly happy wight,  
When once I had my part to reign within:  
But see the chance what hap did after light,  
Or I could scarce t'enjoy my glee begin.  
This Hun did seek from me my Realm to win,  
And had his will: O flattering fortune, fie,  
What meanest thou to make thyself so sly?   

You worthy warriors by my fall beware,  
Let wisdom work, lay rashness all apart,  
When as with enemies you encountered are,  
You must endeavour all your skilful art  
By witty wiles, with force to make your mart.  
Wit nought avails late bought with care and cost,  
Too late it comes when life and all is lost.    

HOW HUMBER THE KING OF Huns minding to conquer Britain, was drowned in the arm of sea now called Humber, about the year before Christ, 1085.  

THough yet no foreign Princes in this place  
Have come to tell their hapless great mishap,  
Yet give me leave a while to plead my case,  
And show how I slipped out of fortune's lap.  
Perchance some other will eschew the trap  
Wherein I fell, and both themselves beware,  
And also seek the less their country's care.   

I am that Humber King of Huns, that came  
To win this Island, from the Britaines fell:  
Was drowned in Humber, where I left my name.  
A just reward for him that lived so well  
At home, and yet thought others to expel  
Both from their Realm or right: well served was I,  
That by ambition thought to elime so high.   

But I must blame report, the chiefest cause  
Of my decay: beware of rash report:  
'Tis wisdom first to take a while a pause,  
Before to dint of dangers you resort:  
Lest when you come in haste to scale the fort,  
By rash assault some engine, shaft or fire  
Dispatch you quite, or make you soon retire.   

For unto me the rumours daily flew,  
That here a noble Island might be won:  
The King was dead: no wars the people knew,  
And eke themselves to strive at home begun,  
It were (quoth I) a noble act well done  
To win it then: and therewithal did make  
Provision good, this famous I'll to take.   

A warlike regal camp provided was,  
And ships, and victual, for my Huns and me,  
By sea to Britain conquest for to pass,  
If Gods thereto or heavenly stars agree.  
At length we came to shores of Albany,  
And there to fight, with Britan's, pitched our field,  
In hope to make them flinch, fly, fall, or yield.   

They met us, long we fiercely fought it out,  
And doubtful was the victors part of twain:  
Till with my Huns, I rushed among the rout,  
And fought till that King Albanact was slain.  
Then they to yield or pardon crave were fain,  
And I with triumphs great received the prey,  
And marched forward, fleshed with such a fray.   

I passed an arm of sea, that would to God  
I never had been half so bold at first,  
I made, to beat myself withal, a rod,  
When so without their Realm I venture durst.  
But mark my tale, thou heard'st not yet the worst:  
As sure I thought the rest to cirumvent,  
By spies before, they knew my whole intent.   

And or I wist, when I was come to land,  
Not far from shore two Princes were prepared  
Their scouts conveyed away my ships they found,  
And of my shipmen's flesh they nothing spared.  
To rescue which, as back again I fared,  
The armies twain were at my heels behind,  
So closed me in, I wist no way to wind.   

On th' East Loerinus with an army great,  
By West was Cambre with another band:  
By North an arm of sea the shores did beat,  
Which compassed me and mine within their land,  
No way to scape was there but Water found,  
Which I must taste, or else the sword of those  
Which were to me and mine full deadly foes.   

So when I saw the best of all mine host  
Beat down with bats, shot, slain, or forced to swim,  
Myself was fain likewise to fly the coast,  
And with the rest the waters entered in.  
A simple shift for Princes to begin.  
Yet far I deemed it better so to die  
Then at my foeman's feetan abiectlie.   

But when I thus had swum with hope to scape,  
If I might wend the water waves to pass:  
The Britan's that before my ships had gate  
'Gan watch me, where amidst the surge I was.  
Then with my boats they rowed to me (alas)  
And all they cried keep Humber, keep their King,  
That to our Prince, we may the traitor bring.   

So with my boats beset, poor Humber I  
Witted no refuge, my weary arms did ache,  
My breath was short, I had no power to cry,  
Or place to stand, while I my plaint might make.  
The water cold made all my joints to shake,  
My heart did beat with sorrow, grief, and pain,  
And down my cheeks, salt tears they gushed amain.   

O must thou yield, and shall thy boats betray  
Thyself (quoth I) no mercy Britan's have:  
O would to God I might escape away,  
I wot not yet if pardon I may crave,  
Although my deeds deserve no life to have.  
I will, I nill, death, bondage, beast am I  
In waters thus, in foreign soil to die.   

With that I clapped my quavering hands abroad,  
And held them up to heaven, and thus I said:  
O Gods that know the pains that I have bode,  
And just revengement of my rashness paid,  
And of the death of Albanact betrayed  
By me and mine, I yield my life therefore  
Content to die, and never grieve ye more.   

Then strait not opening of my hands, I bowed  
Myself, and set my head my arms between:  
And down I sprang with all the force I could,  
So ducked, that neither head nor foot were seen,  
And never saw my foes again I ween,  
There was I drowned: the Britan's, to my fame,  
Yet call that arm of sea by Humber's name.   

Take heed by me, let my presumption serve,  
And let my folly, fall, and rashness, be  
A glass wherein to see if thou do swerver:  
Thou may'st thyself perceive somewhat by me.  
Let neither trust, nor treason, train forth ye,  
But be content with thine estate, so shall  
No wrath of God, procure thy hapless fall.   

If thou be foreign, bide within thy soil  
That God hath given to thee and thine to hold:  
If thou oppression mean, beware the foil,  
Bear not thyself of thee or thine too bold,  
Or of the feats thy elders did of old.  
For God is just, injustice will not thrive:  
He plagues the proud, preserves the good alive.    

HOW KING LOCRINE the eldest son of Brutus lived viciously, and was slain in battle by his wife, Queen Guendoline, the year before Christ, 1064.  

IF ever any noble Prince might rue  
My hapless deeds of yore, the same may I,  
That would to God it were not far too true,  
Or that I justly could my faults deny.  
* The truth of things the end, or time, doth try,  
As well by me is seen: my hapless fall  
Declares whence came my great misfortunes all.   

I am Locrine, second Britain King,  
The eldest son of him that found this land:  
Whose death, to me my mischiefs all did bring,  
And caused why first I took my death in hand.  
He chiefly wiled me when he gave this land  
I should be ruled, by all his Counsels will,  
And use their judgements in my dealings still.   

But what do I accuse my father's hest,  
What mean I here th' unfaultie for to blame?  
All he commanded even was for the best,  
Though in effect, of best the worst became.  
So things oft times well meant, unfitly frame,  
So often times the counsel of our friend  
Apparent good, falls faulty in the end.   

For as he wished, I used his Counsel's aid,  
In each thing that I deemed was good for me:  
I never ought that they desired, denied,  
But did to all their minds and hests agree.  
And Corinaeus saw my heart so 〈◊〉,  
By divers means he sought the match to make,  
That to my wife I might his daughter take.   

So I that wist not then what marriage meant,  
Did strait agree his Guendoline to have:  
Yet afterward suspecting his intent,  
My friends to me this point of counsel gave,  
That * whoso doth of Prince alliance crave,  
He means thereby to work some point of ill,  
Or else to frame the Prince unto his will.   

It may well be he meant no ill at all,  
But * wise men always use to dread the worst.  
And sith it was the fountain of my fall,  
From whence the spring of all my sorrows burst,  
I may well think was some of us accursed.  
For why, * the end doth always prove the fact:  
By end we judge the meaning of the act.   

I made no haste to wed my spoused wife,  
I wist I could (as yet) without her bide:  
I had not tasted joys of trained life,  
I deemed them fools by Cupid's dart that died.  
I Venus vile and all her feats defied,  
I lived at rest, and ruled my land so well,  
That men delighted of my facts to tell.   

My brethren eke long wielded well their parts,  
We feared no foes, we thought our state would stand:  
We gave ourselves to learned skilful arts,  
Wherein we either fruit, or pleasure found,  
And we enjoyed too fine a fertile land,  
That few in earth might with our states compare,  
We lived so void of noisome cark and care.   

But see the chance: when lest we thought of ill,  
When we esteemed our state to be most sure,  
Then came a flaw to bridle all our will,  
For strangers far 'gan us to war procure.  
And even when first, they put their prank in ure,  
On Albaine shores my brother there they slew,  
Whose death we after made the Huns to rue.   

When he was dead they hoped to win the rest,  
And over Aby stream with haste did high.  
But I, and eke my brother Camber, dressed  
Our armies strait, and came their force to try.  
We broke their rays, and forced the King to fly  
Into the arm of sea they over came,  
Where Humber drowned the waters took their name.   

We either slew, or took them captives all,  
Amongst the which (O mischief great to tell!)  
The Gods to work mine overthrow and fall,  
Sent Ladies three, whose beauties did excel.  
Of which, because I liked one so well,  
I took her strait, nor she did aught deny,  
But each thing granted so she might not die.   

Thus Humber we this hateful hungry King,  
In Humber drenched, and him deprived of pride,  
And of his lovely Ladies he did bring  
He lost the prey, and all his men beside,  
And we the spoils of all his host divide.  
But I that thought I had the greatest share,  
Had caught the cause of all my woeful care.   

They called this Lady, Elstride, whom I took,  
Whose beauty brave did so my wits confound,  
That for her sake my promise I forsook,  
Whereby I was to Guendoline first bound.  
Me thought no Lady else so high renowned  
That might have caused me change my conflate mind,  
So was I caught by snares of Cupid blind.   

Was never none before so li'kd mine eye,  
I loved her more than I could love my life:  
Her absence still me thought did cause me die,  
I surely meant to take her for my wife.  
But see how beauty breedeth deadly strife,  
Lo here began my whole confusion, here  
Sprang out the shaft from whence this wound I bear.   

For Corinaeus had no sooner heard,  
That I did mean his daughter to forsake,  
But strait as one that did nought else regard,  
In haste his voyage towards me did take.  
Where he declared what promise I did make,  
From which he said if once I sought to slide,  
It would by dint of sword, and blood, be tried.   

But if I would her take, as erst I said,  
And not this stranger choose against his mind,  
His help he promised at each time, and aid  
To be so ready, as I wished to find.  
He further said my country did me bind,  
To take such one as all my subjects knew,  
Sith strangers to their foes are seldom true.   

I weighed his words, and thought he wished me well,  
But yet because his stock should gain thereby,  
I recked them less: and yet the truth to tell,  
I durst not dare my promise made deny.  
For well I wist if once it came to try,  
It would both weaken all this noble land,  
And doubtful be who should have th' upper hand.   

Thus needs perforce I must his daughter take,  
And must leave off to love where I delight:  
I was constrained, contented to forsake  
The form that most did captivate my sight.  
What luck had I on such a lot to light?  
What meant you Gods that me such fortune gave,  
To cast my mind on her I might not have?   

To short my tale: his Guendoline I took,  
I was content against my will: what then?  
Nor quite for this mine Elstride I forsook.  
For why, I wrought by skill of cunning men  
A Vault along under the ground, a den  
Her company wherein I used still,  
There we accomplished our unhappy will.   

There I begat my Sabrine silly child,  
That virgin small, mine Elstride bare to me:  
Thus I my wife full often times beguiled,  
Which afterward did bear a son to me,  
named Madan: yet we never could agree.  
And he that was the cause she was my Bride,  
The while, her father Corinaeus died.   

Which when I heard, I had my hearts desire,  
I craved no more, there was my end of grief:  
At least I thought to quench Cupid's fire,  
And eke to work my lusting loves relief,  
I meant no more to stcale it like a thief:  
But married Elstride, whom I loved as life,  
And for her sake I put away my wife.   

Likewise my Elstride I as Queen ordained,  
And took her as my lawful wife by right:  
But Guendoline that saw herself disdained,  
Strait fled, and moved the Cornish men to fight.  
To them when she declared her piteous plight,  
In hast they raised an army, for to be  
Revengers of my new made Queen and me.   

And I likewise an army did prepare,  
I thought to quail their courage all by force:  
But to my cost I found too late beware.  
There is no strength in armour: men, ne horse  
Can vail, if jove on wronged take remorse.  
Sith he on whom the deadly dart doth light,  
Can never scape, by ransom, friend, or flight.   

So when our armies met nigh Habrine stream,  
The trumpets blue and I denied the peace:  
I minded to expel them all the Realm,  
Or else to make them ever after cease.  
And they, except I Elstride would release  
(They said) and take my Guendoline again,  
They would revenge the wrong or else be slain.   

On this we met, and valiantly we fought  
On either side, and neither part did yield:  
So equally they fell it was great doubt,  
Which part should have the better of the field.  
But I too bold rushed in with sword and shield,  
To break their rays, so hasty men get smart,  
An arrow came, and struck me to the heart.   

Thus was I brought to bale, unhappy, there,  
My body pierced that wicked life had led:  
When I had reigned all out twenty year,  
And had my corpse with many pleasures fed,  
The earth received my corpse as cold as led.  
And all my pomp, my princely troop and train,  
On earth no more shall see their Prince again.   

To all estates let this for wedlock serve,  
Beware of change, it will not hold out long.  
For * who so mindeth from his mate to swerver,  
Shall sure at length receive revenge for wrong,  
'tis folly fight with God, he's far too strong.  
For though ye colour all with coat of right,  
No false deceit deceives or dims his sight,  
He guides the good, and wrekes the wrongs of might.    

HOW QUEEN ELSTRIDE, THE Concubine and second wife of King Locrine, was miserably drowned by Queen Guendoline, the year before Christ, 1064.  

ANd must I needs myself recite my fall,  
Poor Princess I? must I declare my fate?  
Must I the first of Queens amongst us all,  
Show how I thrice fell from my princely state?  
And from the lofty seat on which I sat?  
If needs I must, than well content, I will,  
Lest here my place in vain I seem to fill,   

I am that Elstride whom Locrine loved,  
A Prince his daughter, came from Germans land.  
My fame of beauty many Princes moved  
To sue for grace, and favour at my hand.  
Which bruit once blown abroad in every land,  
One Humber King of Huns with all his train,  
To come to me a suitor, was full fain.   

What need I tell the gifts to me he gave,  
Or show his suit, or promise he me plight,  
Sith well you know a Prince need nothing crave,  
May nigh command each thing as 'twere his right?  
For * as the fowl before the Eagles sight,  
Even so we fall, submit, and yield us still  
At Prince his call, obeisant to his will.   

And for that time the Huns full mighty were,  
And did increase by martial feats of war:  
Therefore our German Kings aghast, did bear  
Them greater favour, than was need by far.  
My father durst not Humber's hest debar,  
Nor I myself, I rather was content  
In hope of crown, with Humber to consent.   

Two Princely dames with me came then away,  
He bragged to win these country parts all three.  
We Ladies rather were this Prince his prey,  
Because he promised that we Queens should be.  
We came to cost, these country coasts to see,  
Sith he on whom our hope did wholly stand,  
Was drowned, named Humber waters, lost the land.   

For as you heard before when he supposed  
He had won all, because he won a part,  
Straightway he was again thereof deposed,  
Constrained to fly and swim for life poor heart:  
Lo here the cause of all my doleful smart:  
This noble King with whom I came to reign,  
Was dreucht, and drowned unto my grievous pain.   

Then were his soldiers taken, slain, or spoiled,  
And well were they, that could make suit for life.  
Was never such an army sooner foiled:  
O woeful war, that flowd'st in floods of strife,  
And card'st not whom thou cut'st with cruel knife.  
So, had not Venus fraught my face with hue,  
I had no longer lived my form to rue.   

But as I came a captive with the rest,  
My countenance did shine as brave as Sun,  
Each one that saw my native hue, were priest  
To yield themselves, by beams of beauty won.  
My fame strait blown, to gaze on me they run,  
And said I passed each worldly wight, as far  
As Phoebus' bright excels the morning star.   

Like as you see in night, if light appear,  
Straightway to that each man directs his eye:  
Even so among my captive mates that were,  
When I did speak, or make my plaints with cry,  
Then all on me they stared by and by,  
Bemoaning of my fates, and fortune, so,  
As they had been partakers of my woe.   

My form did praise my plea, my sighs they sued,  
My tears enti'st their hearts, some ruth to take.  
My sobs in sight a seemly hue renewed,  
My wring hands, won suitors shift to make,  
My sober soothes did cause them for my sake  
Me to commend, unto their noble King,  
Who wild they should me into presence bring.   

TO whom when I came, in cords as captive bound,  
" O King (quoth I) whose power we feel too strong,  
" O worthy wight, whose fame to skies doth sound,  
" Do pity me, that never wished thee wrong.  
" Release me, one, thy captives all among,  
" Which from my friends, by fraud am brought away,  
" A Prince his daughter, drowned in deep decay.   

" Now as thou art a Prince thyself, of might,  
" And mayst do more than I do dare desire:  
" Let me (O King) find favour in thy sight,  
" Assuage somewhat thy deadly wrath and ire.  
" No part of knighthood 'tis for to require  
" A Lady's death thee never did offend,  
" Sith that thy foe, hath brought her to this end.   

" But let me rather safely be conveyed,  
" O gracious King, once home before I die:  
" Or let me live thy simple waiting maid,  
" If it may please thy royal Majesty.  
" Or let me ransom pay for liberty.  
" But if you mind revenge of unwraught ill,  
" Why spare you Britain's my dear blood to spill?   

With that the King: Good Lady fair, what ist  
Thou canst desire or ask but must obtain?  
Eke would to God with all my heart I wist  
Best way to ease thee of thy woeful pain.  
But if thou wilt, do here with me remain.  
If not content, conductors shalt thou have,  
To bring thee home, and what thou else wilt crau●▪   

" O King (quoth I) the gods preserve thy grace,  
" The heavens requite thy mercy show'd to me,  
" And all the stars, direct thy regal race,  
" With happy course, long length of years to see.  
" The earth with fertile fruits every so thee,  
" That thou mayst still like justice here dispose,  
" And evermore tread down thy deadly foes.   

The noble King commanded to unbind  
Mine arms, and give me liberty at will.  
With whom such favour I did after find,  
That as his Queen I was at elbow still:  
And I enjoyed all pleasures at my fill.  
So that they quite had quenched out my thrall,  
And I forgot my former Fortunes all.   

Thus lo by favour I obtained my suit,  
So had my beauty set his heart on fire,  
That I could make Locrine even as mute,  
Or pleasant as my causes did require.  
And when I knew he could no way retire,  
I prayed he would his favour so extend,  
As I might not be blamed in the end.   

For if (quoth I) you take me as your own,  
And eke my love to you hath constant been:  
Then let your love likewise again be shown,  
And wed me as you may your spoused Queen.  
If since in me misliking you have seen,  
Then best depart betime, before defame  
Begin to take from Elstride her good name.   

No wavering heart (said he) Locrine bears,  
No feigned flattery shall thy faith deface:  
Thy beauty, birth, fame, virtue, age and years,  
Constraineth me mine Elstride to embrace.  
I must of force, give thy requests a place,  
For as they do with reason good consent,  
Even so I grant thee all thy whole intent.   

Then was the time appointed and the day,  
In which I should be wedded to this King.  
But in this case, his Counsel caused a stay,  
And sought out means at discord us to bring.  
Eke Corinaeus claimed a former thing,  
A precontract was made and full accord  
Between his daughter, and my sovereign Lord.   

And yet the King did give me comfort still,  
He said he could not so forsake my love:  
He evermore would bear me all good will,  
As both my beauty and deserts did move.  
Yet faithless in his promise he did prove:  
His Counsel at the last did him constrain  
To marry her, unto my grievous pain.   

At which I could not but with hate repine,  
It vexed me, his mate that should have been:  
To live in hate a Prince his concubine,  
That ever had such hope to be his Queen.  
The steps of state are full of woe and teen,  
For when we think we have obtained the throne,  
Then strait our pomp and pride is quite o'erthrown.   

Lo twice I fell from hope of Princely crown,  
First, when unhappy Humber lost his life:  
And next I laid my peacocks pride adown,  
When I could not be King Locrine's wife.  
But oft they say the third doth end the strife,  
Which I have proved, therefore the sequel view,  
* The third pays home, this proverb is too true.   

The King could not refrain his former mind,  
But used me still, and I my doubtful years  
Did linger on, I knew no shift to find,  
But past the time full oft with mourning tears.  
* A concubine is never void of fears,  
For if the wife her at advantage take,  
In rage revenge with death she seeks to make.   

Likewise I wist if once I sought to fly,  
Or to entreat the King depart I might:  
Then would he strait be discontent with me.  
Yea if I were pursued upon the flight,  
Or came deflowered into my father's sight,  
I should be taken, kept perforce, or slain,  
Or in my country live in great disdain.   

In such a plight what might a Lady do,  
Was ever Princess poor, in such a case?  
O wretched wight bewrapt in webs of woe,  
That still in dread waist tossed from place to place,  
And never foundest mean to end thy race,  
But still in doubt of death in carking care  
Didst live a life devoid of all welfare.   

The King perceiving well my changed cheer,  
To ease my heart with all devised deceits,  
By secret ways I came devoid of fear,  
In vaults, by cunning Masons crafty feats.  
Whereas we safely from the Queen her threats,  
So that the King and I, so used our art,  
As after turned us both to pain and smart.   

By him I had my Sabrine small, my child,  
And after that his wife her father lost.  
I mean he died and she was straight exiled,  
And I made Queen unto my care and cost.  
For she went down to Cornwall straight in post,  
Anc caused all her father's men to rise  
With all the force and strength they might devise.   

My King and hers, with me, 'gainst her prepared  
An army strong: but when they came to fight,  
Dame Guendoline did wax at length too hard,  
And of our King us both deposed quite.  
For from her camp an arrow sharp did light  
Upon his breast, and made him leave his breath:  
Lo thus the King came by untimely death.   

Then I too late, began in vain to fly,  
And taken was presented to the Queen:  
Who me beheld with cruel Tiger's eye.  
" O quean (quoth she) that cause of wars hast been,  
" And deadly hate, the like was never seen,  
" Come on, for these my hands shall rid thy life,  
" And take revengement of our mortal strife.   

" I longed long to bring thee to this day,  
" And thou likewise hast sought to suck my blood:  
" Now art thou taken in my spoils, a pray  
" For thee my life full long in danger stood.  
" I will both teach thyself and others good,  
" To break the bands of faithful wedlock plight,  
" And give thee that which thou deservest right.   

" O harlot whore, why should I stay my hands?  
" O painted picture, shall thy looks thee save?  
" Nay, bind her fast both hand and foot in bands,  
" And let her some strange kind of torments have.  
" What strumpet, think'st for that thou seemest brave,  
" Or for thy tears, or sighs, to scape my sight?  
" Myself will rather vanquish thee by fight.   

Thou rather shouldst my vital breath deprive  
Then ever scape, if none were here but we.  
But now I will not file my hands to strive,  
Or else to touch so vile a drab as she.  
Come on at once, and bring her after me,  
With hand and feet (as I commanded) bound,  
And let me see her here, as Humber, drowned.   

A thousand things beside she spoke in rage,  
While that a caitiff did with cords me bind.  
No tears, nor sobs, nor sighs, might aught assuage  
The jealous Queen, or mollify her mind.  
Occasions still her frantic head did find,  
And when she spoke her eyes did seem as fire,  
She looked as pale as chalk, with wrathful ire.   

Ne stood she still, but fiercely me defied,  
Ranged up and down, and oft her palms she struck.  
Locrine's now (quoth she) had not thus died,  
If such an harlot whore he had not took.  
And therewithal she gave a Tigers look,  
That made me quake, what lets (quoth she) my knife  
To rid this whore, my husband's second wife.  
he's dead, I live, and shall I save her life?   

O Queen (quoth I) if pity none remain,  
But I be slain or drowned as Humber was:  
Then take thy pleasure by my pinching pain,  
And let me hence as thou appointest pass.  
But take some pity on my child, alas,  
Thou knowst the infant made no fault but he  
That's dead, and I, therefore revenge on me.   

No bastards here shall live to dispossess  
My son, (she said) but sith thou soughtest same,  
I will provide for her a kingdom less,  
Which shall hereafter ever have her name.  
Thou knowst whereof the name of Humber came,  
Even so Sabrina shall this stream be called,  
Sith Sabrine me, as Humber Locrine thralled.   

With that my child was Sabrine brought in sight,  
Who when she saw me there in bands to lie,  
Alas (she cried) what means this piteous plight?  
And down she fell before the Queen, with cry:  
O Queen (quoth she) let me more rather die  
Than she that's guiltless should: for why, thy king  
Did as his captive her to lewdness bring.   

Which when I saw the kindness of the child,  
It burst my heart much more than doom of death:  
Poor little lamb, with countenance how mild  
See pleaded still: and I for want of breath,  
(With woeful tears that lay her feet beneath)  
Could not put forth a word our lives to save,  
Or if therefore I might a kingdom have.   

Her piteous plaints did somewhat death withdraw,  
For as she long beheld the Queen with tears,  
(Quoth she) let me have rigour void of law,  
In whom the sign of all thy wrath appears.  
And let me die, my father's face that bears.  
Sith he is dead, and we are void of stay,  
Why should I thee for life or mercy pray?   

My mother may to Germany return,  
Where she was borne, and if it please thy grace:  
And I may well lie in my father's tomb,  
If thou wilt grant his child so good a place.  
But if thou think my blood is far too base,  
(Although I came, by both, of princely line)  
Then let me have what shroud thou wilt assign.   

With that the Queen replied with milder cheer,  
And said the child was wondrous feat, and witty▪  
But yet she would not her revenge forbear,  
For why (quoth she) the proverb says, * that pity  
Hath lewdly lost full many a noble City.  
Here Elstride now i'll wreak my griefs on thee  
To die, take leave, but talk no more to me.   

On this my leave I took, and thus I said,  
Farewell my country Germany, farewell:  
Adieu the place from whence I was conveyed.  
Farewell my father, and friends there dwell.  
My Humber drowned, as I shall be, farewell.  
Adieu Locrine dead for thee I die:  
Would God my corpse might by thy coffin lie.   

Adieu my pleasures past, farewell, adieu.  
Adieu the cares and sorrows I have had.  
Farewell my friends that erst for me did sue,  
Adieu that were to save my life full glad.  
Farewell my fawning friends I lately had,  
And thou my beauty, cause of death, farewell,  
As oft as heart can think, or tongue can tell.   

Adieu you heavens, my mortal eyes shall see  
No more your lights and planets all farewell,  
And chiefly Venus' fair that paintedst me,  
When Mercury his tale to me did tell,  
Eke afterwards when Mars with us did dwell.  
And now at last thou cruel Mars adieu,  
Whose dart my life and love Locrine slew.   

And must I needs depart from thee my child?  
If needs I must, ten thousand times farewell:  
Poor little lamb, thy friends are quite exiled?  
And much I fear thou shalt not long do well.  
But if they so with boiling rancour swell  
As thee to slay which never wroughtest ill,  
How can they stay my stained corpse to kill?   

With that, my Sabrines slender arms embraced  
Me round, and would not let me so depart.  
Let me (quoth she) for her the waters taste,  
Or let us both together end our smart.  
Yea rather rip you forth my tender heart:  
What should I live? But they the child withdrew,  
And me into the raging stream they threw.   

So in the waters as I strived to swim,  
And kept my head above the waves for breath:  
Me thought I saw my child would venture in,  
Which cried amain, O let me take like death.  
The waters strait had drawn me underneath,  
Where diving, up at length again rose I,  
And saw my child, and cried farewell, I die.   

Then as my strength was wasted, down I went,  
Eke so I plunged twice or thrice yet more:  
My breath departed, needs I must relent.  
The waters pierced my mouth and ears so sore,  
And to the bottom with such force me bore,  
That life, and breath, and mind, and sense was gone,  
And I as dead and cold as marble stone.   

Lo thus you hear the race of all my life,  
And how I passed the pikes of painful woe:  
How twice I thought to be a Prince's wife,  
And twice was quite deprived my honour fro,  
The third time Queen, and felt foul overthrow.  
Let Princely Ladies view mine history,  
Mine haps, and woes, and hateful destiny.   

Bid them beware, lest beauty them abuse,  
Beware of pride, for have a fall it must:  
And bid them Fortune's flattery refuse,  
Her turned wheel is void of steady trust.  
Who recks no mean, but leaveth all to lust,  
Shall find my words as true as I them tell:  
Bid them beware in time, I wish them well.    

HOW THE LADY SAbrine, daughter of King Locrine and Elstride, was drowned by Queen Guendoline, the year before Christ, 1064.  

BEhold me Sabrine orphan erst bereft  
Of all my friends, by cruel case of war:  
When as not one to treat for me was left,  
But jealousy did all their powers debar.  
When as my father eke was slain in war,  
And when my mother even before my sight  
Was drowned to death, O wretch in woeful plight.   

Trust who so will the staff of high estate,  
And bring me word what stay thereby you have:  
For why, if Fortune once displeasure take,  
She gives the foil, though looks be ne'er so brave.  
* 'tis wisdom when you win, to win to save:  
For oft who trusts to get a Prince his train,  
Would at the length of beggars life be fain.   

This might the Hun erst Humber well have said,  
And this my mother Elstride proved too true,  
When as his life by striving streams was stayed,  
And when the tyrants her in waters threw.  
What I may say, myself reports to you,  
Which had more terror show'd then twice such twain:  
Give ear, and judge if I abode no pain.   

First when my father's corpse was stricken down  
With deadly shaft, I came to mourn and see:  
And as he lay with bleeding breast in sown,  
He cast aside his watering eyes on me.  
Fly, fly, (quoth he) thy stepdame seeks for thee,  
My woeful child: what flight mayst thou to take  
My Sabrine poor, I must thee needs forsake.   

See here mine end, behold thy father's fall,  
Fly hence, thy stepdame seeks thy stayless life:  
Thy mother eke ere this is wrapped in thrall,  
You cannot scape of jealous grief her knife.  
Farewell my child, mine Elstride and my wife,  
Adieu (quoth he) I may no longer bide:  
And even with that he gasped breath, and died.   

What bird can fly, and soar, if storms do rage?  
What ship can sail if once the winds resist?  
What wight is that can force of wars assuage?  
Or else what war can bridle fortunes list?  
What man is he, that dare an host resist?  
What woman only dare withstand a field?  
If not? what child but must to enemies yield.   

My father's soldiers fled away for fear,  
As soon as once their captains death they scanned:  
The Queen proclaimed a pardon every where  
To those would yield and crave it at her hand:  
Excepting such as did her aye withstand.  
For so the course always of pardons goes  
As saves the soldier, and entraps the foes.   

Then wist I flight could nothing me prevail,  
I feared her pardon would not save my life:  
The storm was such I durst not bear a fail,  
I durst not go t'entreat my father's wife,  
Although I never was the cause of strife:  
For jealousy, devoid of reasons reign,  
With frenzies fume enraged her restless brain.   

But see the chance: thus compassed round with fear  
In broils of blood, as in the field I stand,  
I wished to God my corpse were any where  
As out of life, or off this hateful land.  
No sooner wished, but there was even at hand  
A soldier vile, in haste (quoth he) come on,  
Queen Elstride will before thou ●●me begun.   

The rascal rude, the rogue, the clubfist grept  
My slender arm, and plucktme on in haste:  
And with my robes the bloody ground he swept,  
As I drew back he haled me on full fast.  
Under his arm my careful corpse he cast.  
Sith that (quoth he) thou puttest me to this pain,  
Thou shalt thereby at length but little gain.   

So at the length we came where we descried  
A number huge of folks about the Queen:  
As when you see some wonder great betide,  
Or else the place where some strange sight hath been:  
So might you there the people standing seen,  
And gazed all when as they see me brought,  
Then sure I deemed I was not come for nought.   

And in the press, some praised my comely face,  
In beauty Elstride which resembled right:  
Some said I looked like my father's grace,  
But others said it was a piteous sight  
I should so die: the Queen me pardon might.  
They said the beast me bore did me abuse,  
Which not so rudely ought a Princess use.   

But what did this redress my woeful care,  
You wot the Commons use such proverbs still:  
And yet the captives poor no better are,  
It rather helps their pained hearts to kill.  
* To pity one in grief doth work him ill.  
Bemoan his woe, and cannot ease his thrall,  
It kills his heart, but comforts none at all.   

Thus passed we through the press: at length we came  
Into the presence of the jealous Queen,  
Who nought at all the rascal rude did blame  
That bore me so, but asked if I had seen  
My father slain, that cause thereof had been.  
O Queen (quoth I) God knows my whole intent  
Of slaughter guiltless: I am innocent.   

With that I saw the people look aside,  
To view a mourning voice: I heard thereby  
It was my woeful mother by that cried,  
Lo Sabrine, bound at brink of death I lie.  
What pen, or tongue, or tears with weeping eye  
Could tell my woes, that saw my mother bound  
On waters shore, wherein she should be drowned.   

With that I fell before the Queen, and prayed  
For mercy, but with fiery eyes she bend  
Her brows on me, out bastard vile (she said)  
Thou wotest not yet wherefore for thee I sent.  
O Queen (quoth I) have pity, be content,  
And if thou mind of mercy ought to show,  
Drown me, and let my mother harmless go.   

For why, she was a Prince his daughter, borne  
In Germany, and thence was brought away  
Perforce, by Humber, who by wars forlorn  
Thy King as captive took her for his prey:  
Thou mayst full well her case with reason way.  
What could she do, what more than she or I  
Thy captives now, thine own to live or die?   

Take pity then on Princely race, O Queen,  
Have pity, if remorse may aught require,  
Take pity on a captive thrice hath been,  
Let pity pierce the rage of all thine ire.  
But if thy breast burn with revenging fire,  
Then let my death quench out that fuming flame,  
Sith of thy husband's blood and hers I came.   

Much more I said while tears out streaming went,  
But nought of ease at all thereby I gained.  
My mother eke, did, as she lay, lament,  
Wherewith my heart a thousand fold she pained.  
And though the Queen my plaints to favour feigned,  
Yet at the last she bade she should prepare  
Herself to die, and end her course of care.   

Then all her friends my mother Elstride named,  
And pleasures past, and bade them all adieu  
Eke as she thus her last farewell had framed,  
With loss of him from whom her sorrows grew.  
At length to me (which made my heart to rue)  
She said farewell my child, I fear thy fall,  
Ten thousand times adieu, my Sabrine small.   

And as the cruel caitiffs came to take  
Her up, to cast and drown her in the flood,  
I fast mine arms about her clipped did make,  
And cried, O Queen let mercy meek thy mood,  
Do rather reave my heart of vital blood,  
Then thus I live: with that they slacked my hold,  
And drenched my mother in the waters cold.   

For love to aid her, venture in would I,  
That saw my mother strive aloft for wind.  
To land she looked and said farewell, I die,  
O let me go (quoth I) like fate to find.  
Said Guendoline, come on likewise and bind  
This Sabrine here likewise, for so shall she  
At once receive, her whole request of me.   

Eke as I wish to have in mind her fame,  
As Humber's is, which should her father been:  
So shall this flood of Sabrine have the name,  
That men thereby may say, a righteous Queen  
here drowned her husband's child of concubine.  
Therefore leave Sabrine here thy name and life,  
Let Sabrine waters end our mortal strife.   

Dispatch (quoth she) with that they bound me fast,  
My slender arms and feet, with little need:  
And sau's all mercy, me in waters cast,  
Which drew me down, and cast me up with speed,  
And down me drenched the Sabrine fish to feed:  
Where I abode till now from whence I came,  
And there the waters hold as yet my name.   

Lo thus this jealous Queen, in raging sort,  
With bloody hate bereft her husband's health:  
And eke my mother Elstrides life (God wot)  
Which never meant to hurt this Commonwealth.  
And me, Locrine's child, be got by stealth.  
Against all reason was it for to kill  
The child, for that her parents erst did ill.   

But here you see, what time our pomp doth bide,  
Hereby you see, th' unsteady trust in war,  
Hereby you see, the stay of States etride,  
Hereby you see, our hope to make doth mar,  
Hereby you see, we fall from bench to bar.  
From bench (quoth I) yea from the Princely seat,  
You see how soon us Fortune down doth beat.   

And here you see, how lawless love doth thrive,  
Hereby you see, how jealous folks do far:  
here may you see, with wisdom they that wive,  
Need never reck Cupid's cursed snare.  
here may you see, divorcement breedeth care,  
here seldom thrive, the children may you see,  
Which in unlawful wedlock gotten be.   

Declare thou then our fall and great mishap,  
Declare the hap, and glory we were in:  
Declare how soon we taken were in trap,  
When we supposed we had most safest been.  
Declare what loss they have that hope to win.  
* When Fortune most doth sweetly seem to smile,  
Then will she frown: she laughs but even a while.    

HOW KING MADAN FOR HIS EVIL LIFE was slain by Wolves, the year before Christ, 1009.  

Amongst the rest that sat in haughty seat,  
And felt the fall, I pray thee pen for me  
A Tragedy may some such wisdom geat  
As they may learn, and some what wiser be.  
For in my glass when as themselves they see,  
They may beware: my fall from Fortune's lap  
Shall teach them how t'eschew the like mishap.   

I am that Madan, once of Britain King,  
The third that ever reigned in this land:  
Mark well therefore my death: as strange a thing,  
As some would deem could scarce with reason stand.  
Yet when thou hast my life well thoroughly scanned,  
Thou shalt perceive, not half so strange as true,  
* Ill life, worse death, doth after still ensue.   

For when my mother Guendoline had reigned  
In my nonage, full 15. years, she died:  
And I but young, not well in virtues trained,  
Was left this noble Island for to guide:  
Whereby when once my mind was puffed with pride,  
I passed for nought, I used my lust for law.  
Of right, or iustiee, recked I not a straw.   

No mean I kept, but ruled all by rage,  
No bounds of measure could me compass in.  
No counsel could my meekelesse mind assuage:  
When once to fume I fiercely did begin.  
And I excelled in nothing else but sin.  
So that my subjects all did wish my end,  
Save such to whom for vice I was a friend.   

And pleasures plunged I took my whole repast,  
My youth me led devoid of compass quite:  
And vices were so rooted in at last,  
That to recure the ill, it passed my might.  
For * who so doth with will and pleasure fight,  
(Though all his force do strive them to withstand)  
Without good grace they have the upper hand.   

* What liquor first the earthen pot doth take,  
It keepeth still the savour of that same.  
Full hard it is a Cramocke strait to make,  
Or crooked Logs with wainscot fine to frame.  
'tis hard to make the cruel Tiger tame.  
And so it fares with those have vices caught:  
* nought once (they say) and ever after nought.   

I speak not this as though it past all cure  
From vices vile to virtue to retire:  
But this I say, if vice be once in ure,  
The more you shall to quite yourself require.  
The more you plunge yourself in fulsome mire.  
As he that strives in soakte quick sirts of sand,  
Still sinks, scarce ever comes again to land.   

The gifts of grace may nature overcome,  
And God may grant the time when we repent.  
But I did still in laps of lewdness run,  
At last myself to cruelty I bent.  
But who so doth with bloody acts content  
His mind, shall sure at last find like again,  
And feel for pleasures thousands pangs of pain.   

For in the midst of those untrusty toils,  
When as I nothing feared, but all was sure:  
With all my train, I hunting rode for spoils  
Of those, who after did my death procure.  
These lewd delights did boldly me allure,  
To follow still and to pursue the chase,  
At last I came into a desert place.   

Beset with hills, and monstrous rocks of stone,  
My company behind me lost, or stayed:  
The place was eke with haughty trees o'ergrown,  
So vast and wild it made me half afraid.  
And strait I was with ravening wolves betrayed,  
Came out of caves, and dens, and rocks amain,  
There was Irent in pieces, killed, and slain.   

Woe worth that youth (in vain) so vilely spent  
Should ever cause a King to feel such smart:  
Woe worth that ever I should here lament,  
Or show the hurt of my poor Princely heart.  
I think the clown that drives the mixen cart  
Hath better hap than Princes, such as I:  
No storm of Fortune casts him down so high.   

A man by grace and wit may shun the snare.  
'tis said * a wiseman all mishap withstands:  
For though by stars we borne to mischiefs are,  
Yet grace and prudence bayles our careful bands.  
* Each man (they say) his fate hath in his hands,  
And what he mars, or makes to lose, or save  
Of good or evil, is even self do, self have.   

This thing is seen by me, that led my days  
In vicious sort, for greedy wolves a pray.  
I wish, and will, that Princes guide their ways:  
Lo, here by this eschew like chance they may,  
And vices such as work their whole decay.  
Which if they do, full well is spent the time  
To warn, to write, and eke to shun the crime.    

HOW KING MALIN WAS SLAIN BY HIS BROther King Mempricius, the year before Christ, 1009.  

IF Fortune were so firm as she is frail,  
Or glozing glory were still permanent:  
If no mishap men's doings did assail,  
Or that their acts and facts were innocent:  
If they in hope no hurt nor hatred meant,  
Or dealings aye were done with duty due,  
They never need their great misfortunes rue.   

If pomp were pain, and pride were not in price,  
Or haughty seat had not the highest place:  
If they could learn by others to be wise,  
Or else eschew the dangers of their race:  
If once they could the golden mean embrace,  
Or banish quite ambition from their breast,  
They never need to reck or reap unrest.   

But they do think such sweetness in renown,  
Upon this earth is all the greatest hap:  
They nothing fear the hurt of falling down,  
Or little room in Lady Fortune's lap.  
They give no heed before they get the clap:  
And then too late they wish they had been wise,  
When from the fall they would, and cannot, rise.   

As if two twins, or children at the teat  
Of nurse, or mother, both at once might be,  
And both did strive the better dug to geat,  
Till one were down, and slipped beside her knee:  
Even so it fares, by others as by me,  
In fortune's lap they have so little hold,  
She cannot stay both striving if she would,   

I am that Malm one of Madans' sons,  
Which thought to reign and rule this noble I'll,  
And would so done: but see what chance there comes  
Where brethren love and friendship quite exile.  
* Who thinks in trust no treason neither guile,  
Is soon clean bereaved of life and all,  
In stead of rule he reaps the crop of thrall.   

My youngest brother than Mempricius hight,  
Whose haughty mind, and mine, were still at square:  
We evermore as foes hight other spite,  
And deadly ire in hateful hearts we bore.  
He sought all ways he might to work me care,  
And each regarded others envy, so,  
As after turned both to painful woe.   

Because my father loved him well, therefore  
I feared my brother should obtain my right:  
Likewise on favour boldened he him bore,  
And neither had in virtues ways delight.  
What need I here our inward griefs recite?  
We, not as brethren, lived in hatred still,  
And sought occasion other each to kill.   

I having hope for to preserve the crown,  
And he for that he feared my title bred  
Such friendship, as might always keep him down  
And both deprive him of his crown and head.  
But when it chanced our father once was dead,  
Then strait appeared all his envy plain:  
For he could not from his attempt refrain.   

Some wished we should divide the realm in two,  
And said my father eke was of that mind:  
But neither of us both, that so would do,  
We were not each to other half so kind.  
And vile ambition made us both so blind,  
We thought our reign could not be sure and good  
Except the ground thereof were laid with blood.   

At last a time of parley chosen was,  
And truce concluded for our titles right:  
Wherein I hoped might be brought to pass  
That I enjoy in peace my kingdom might.  
But secretly by policy and sleight  
He slew me with his sword, before I wist:  
Where crown, peace, kingdom life and all I missed.   

Thus was I by my wicked brother slain,  
Which with my death his cruel eyes did fill.  
This oftentimes they use to get and gain,  
That cannot shun misfortune as they will.  
Was never man pretended such an ill,  
But God to him like measure shortly sent  
As he to others erst before had meant.   

Usurping wrong incurs the curse of heaven,  
And blood cries out for vengeance at his hand,  
Who still in care of human good is given  
The good to aid, and graceless to withstand.  
If either vice or virtue we aband,  
We either are rewarded as we serve,  
Or else are plagued, as our deeds deserve.   

Let this my warning then suffice each sort,  
Bid them beware: example here you see:  
It passeth play, 'tis tragical disport  
To climb the steps of stately high degree.  
For though they think good fortune served not me,  
Yet did she use me as she used the rest:  
And so full oft she serveth even the best.    

HOW KING Mempricius given to all lust, was devoured by Wolves, the year before Christ, 989.  

'tIs often said, a man should do likewise  
To other, as he would to him they did.  
* Do as thou wouldst be done to, saith the wise,  
And do as conscience and as justice bid.  
there's no man ought for Empire, as I did  
His impious hands with cruel blood distain:  
For * blood doth always cry for blood again.   

Eke lustful life, that sleeps in sinks of sin,  
Procures a plague: fie, fie on Venus' vile:  
We little wot the mischiefs are therein,  
When we with poisons sweet ourselves beguile.  
The pleasures pass, the joys endure but while,  
And nought thereby at all we get or gain  
But dreadful death, and everlasting pain.   

Me thinks thou harkenest for to hear my name,  
And musest what I am that thus do come.  
I would or this have told it, but for shame:  
And yet to give example here to some,  
I will no longer feign myself so doom,  
But even as others I will tell my fall:  
Take here my name, my life, my death, and all.   

I am Mempricius, Madans' younger son,  
Once King of Britain, that my brother slew:  
Whereby the crown, and kingdom all I won,  
And after nourished vices more that grew.  
Not natures laws, nor Gods, nor man's I knew,  
But lived in lust not recking any thing,  
I deemed all things lawful for a King.   

First when I had my brother brought on bear,  
I thought in rest to keep the Kingdom long:  
I was devoid of doubt, I had no fear,  
Was none durst check me, did I right or wrong.  
I lived at large, and thought my power so strong  
There could no man prevail against my will,  
I steed of law that used rigour still.   

Then wickedly I fell to slothful ease,  
A vice that breeds a number more beside.  
I was so testy none durst me displease,  
And eke so puffed with glory vain, and pride.  
My senseless sense, as ship without a guide,  
Was tossed with every fancy of my brain,  
Like Phoebus' chariot under Phaëtons' reign.   

I deemed them foes that me good counsel gave,  
And those my chiefest friends could gloze and lie:  
I hated them that were so sage and grave,  
And those I loved were lusty, lewd, and sly.  
I did the wisest wits as fools defy,  
Such sots, knaves, ruffians, roisters I embraced,  
As were unwise, unhonest, rude, unchaste.   

I lusted eke, as lazy lechers use,  
My subjects wives and daughters at my will  
I did so often as me pleased abuse,  
Perforce I kept them at my pleasure still.  
Thus gate I queans and concubines at fill,  
And for their sakes I put away my wife:  
Such was my lewdness, lust, and lawless life.   

But shame forbids me for to tell the rest,  
It me abhors to show what did ensue:  
And yet because it moveth in my breast  
Compunction still, and was God wot too true,  
I'll farther tell whence my destruction grew.  
To Sodom sin I foully fell, and than  
I was despised both of God and man.   

Could I long prosper thus, do you suppose?  
Might any ill exceed these vices told?  
Think you there's any wight on ground that goes  
Might scape revenge of vice so manifold?  
No sure: * who is in sinfulness so bold,  
His vices fare like weeds, they sprout so fast  
They kill the corpse, as weeds the corn, at last.   

My great outrage, my heedless head, the life  
I beastly led could not continue so:  
My brother's blood, my leaving of my wife,  
And working of my friends and subjects woe  
Cried still to God, for my foul overthroe,  
Who hears the wronged, who views their careful case,  
And at the length doth all their foes deface.   

Yet I mistrusting no mishaps at hand,  
(Though I were worthy twenty times to die)  
I lewdly lived, and did my wealth withstand.  
I never thought my end was half so me.  
For my disport I road on hunting, I,  
In woods the fearful Hart I chased fast,  
Till quite I lost my company at last.   

And or I wist, to cost I found my foes,  
By chance I came whereas the Wolves they bred:  
Which in a moment did me round enclose,  
And mounted at my horse his throat and head.  
Some on the hinder parts their paunches fed.  
Yet fought I still to scape, if it might be,  
Till they my panting horse pulled down with me.   

Then was I hopeless to escape their jaws,  
They fastened all their holder's fast on me:  
And on my royal robes they set their claws:  
My Princely presence, nor my high degree  
Moved them no more obeisant for to be,  
Nor of my corpse to take no more remorse,  
Then did the grievous groaning of my horse.   

But ravenously they rend my breast and throat,  
Forsook my steed, came all at once and tore  
My Kingly corpse, from which they fleid my coat,  
And of my flesh they made at all no spare,  
They never left me till my bones were bare.  
Lo thus I slew my brother, left my wife,  
Lived vilely, and as vilely ended life.   

Beware of bloody broils, beware of wrong,  
Embrace the counsel of the wise and sage:  
Trust not to power though it be near so strong,  
Beware of rashness rude and roisters rage.  
Eschew vile Venus' toys, she cuts off age,  
And learn this lesson oft, and tell thy friend,  
By sudden death, pocks, begging, harlot's end.    

HOW KING BLADUD, TAKING ON HIM TO FLY, fell upon the Temple of Apollo, and broke his neck, the year before Christ, 844.  

I Pray thee Higgins take in hand thy pen,  
And write my life and fall amongst the rest:  
A warning set me down for curious men,  
Whose wits the work of nature seek to wrest.  
I was Prince Bladud pregnant as the best.  
Of wisdom, wealth, and learning I had store,  
Of regal race: or what I craved more?   

But this in all the sorts of men we see,  
An uncontented mind, when much they have:  
The learned yet would more profounder be,  
The richest most t'increase their wealth do crave.  
The finest Dames do slike their faces brave.  
The noble higher climes and to the skies  
T'advance his name he daily doth devise.   

In Britain though I learned had full well  
The arts, and could amongst the wise confer:  
Yet when of Athens I the fame heard tell,  
(Though it in Greece so far hence distant were)  
I travailed thither, writer's witness are,  
I studied there, thence learned men I brought,  
That noble Arts in Britain might be taught.   

But after he was dead that was my stay,  
My father grave, I mean the worthy King:  
Then all the Britain's shortly by a day,  
To royal seat elected me did bring.  
Where I to place in order every thing,  
Received both crown and sceptre in my hand,  
With right and equity to rule this land.   

Then, for because the sway of all the I'll  
Depended on my government to rest:  
I did consult with all the Peers a while,  
And of my father's Counsellors the best.  
I order took for matters unredrest,  
Giving to each such place as best did fit,  
Their birth, their wealth, their persons and their wit.   

The learned greeks, whom I from Athens brought,  
Conferring with the British learned men:  
A place, as I commanded them, had sought  
Amidst the Realm, and brought me word again.  
At Staneford there I built a College then,  
And of my land I gave the fertil'st parts,  
To foster learning and the famous Artes.   

By this, of skilful men the land had store,  
And all the arts were read in Britain well:  
No country was for learning praised more.  
We did in noble science so excel,  
From other nations hither came to dwell  
The wisest wits, commending us to skies:  
Deeming us people valiant, learned and wise.   

And for that time, of Gods we honoured all,  
Apollo high for wisdom, art, and skill:  
At Troynovant a Temple special  
I built to him, for sacrifices still.  
Whereon I fell, as after speak I will.  
Such was our use and superstition then,  
To deem as Gods the images of men.   

By arts I made the wholesome Baths at bath,  
And made therefore two Tons of burning brass:  
And other twain seven kinds of salts that have  
In them in closed, but these be made of glass,  
With sulphur filled, wild fire emixt there was,  
And in four wells these Tons I did assay,  
To place by art that they might last of aye.   

Which waters heat and cleansing perfect power,  
With vapours of the sulphur, salts, and fire,  
Hath virtue great, to heal, and wash, and scour  
The bathed sores therein that health desire.  
If of the virtues, more thou dost require,  
I will recite what old experience tells,  
In causes cold the virtues of these wells.   

The baths to soften sinews virtue have,  
And also for to cleanse and scour the skin  
From Morphews white and black, to heal and save  
The bodies freckled, faint, are bathed therein:  
Scabs, lepry, sores both old and festered in,  
The scurf, botch, itch, gout, pox, and humours fell,  
The milt and liver hard it healeth well.   

I must confess by learned skill I found  
Those native wells whence ye have help for men.  
But well thou knowst there runs from under ground  
Springs sweet, salt, cold, and hot even now as then,  
From rock, salt-petre, alum, gravel, fen,  
From sulphur, iron, lead, gold, brass and tin:  
Springs virtue take of veins that they been in.   

Then who so knows by nature's work in these,  
Of metals or of mines the force to heal,  
May sooner give his judgement in disease,  
For curing by the bath, and surer deal  
With sickly people of the public weal,  
And also find of fountains hot, and cold,  
To heal by them the sick, both young and old.   

The City eke of bath, I founded there,  
Renowned far by reason of the wells:  
And many monuments that ancient were  
I placed there, thou knowst the story tells.  
I sought renown and fame and nothing else.  
But when our acts extols us to the skies,  
We look not down from whence we first did rise.   

There are but few, whom Fortune baths in bless,  
But blinded are, and dazelingly they look:  
They see nought else but worldly happiness,  
At that they only fish with Fortune's hook.  
Ambition will not wisdoms counsel brook,  
Pride sets her thoughts on things that vade away,  
Forsaking virtue which doth near decay.   

men's vain delights are wondrous to behold,  
For that that reason nils, nor nature sows  
They take in hand on science far too bold,  
Deceived by subtle snares of devilish shows.  
From which attempts a flood of mischief flows,  
An heap of hurts, a fry of foul decay,  
A flock of fears, and thralls a thousand ways.   

If that the water fish forsake the stream  
Against his kind, feels he no hurt ensues?  
Or if the brock would learn to play the bream,  
And leave the lambs at land, were this no news?  
A feathered fowl in th' earth a den to choose,  
Or flounder say to fly the lark to catch,  
We might admire what monsters time did hatch.   

But sith we see that nature hath assigned  
The fowl to fly, the air, as seemeth well,  
The fish to swim, the sea, as fits his kind,  
The earth for men and beasts to breed and dwell:  
Of right a man, which doth the rest excel,  
Should even so far surpass in his degree,  
As all the rest in wisdom weaker be.   

All this I speak to warn the rest that hear,  
And eke to show the blindness of delights.  
Herein my folly vain may plain appear,  
What hap they heap which try out cunning slights,  
What hurt there hits, at such vain shows and sights,  
Where men for pleasure only take much pain,  
To alter natures gifts for pleasure vain.   

Were not it strange, think you, a King to fly,  
To play the tombler, or some juggling cast?  
To dress himself in plumes, as erst did I,  
And under arms to knit on wings full fast?  
A sport you think that might the wise aghast.  
But Magic art had taught me points of skill,  
Which in the end did prove my future ill.   

I decked my corpse with plumes (I say) and wings,  
And had them set, thou seest, in skilful wise  
With many feats, fine poyseing equal things,  
To aid myself in flight to fall or rise,  
Few men did ever use like enterprise,  
'Gainst store of wind, by practice rise I could,  
And turn and wind at last which way I would.   

But ere the perfect skill I learned had,  
(And yet me thought I could do passing well)  
My subjects hearts with pleasant toys to glad,  
From Temple's top, where did Apollo dwell,  
I said to fly, but on the Church I fell,  
And in the fall I lost my life withal.  
This was my race, this was my fatal fall.   

What vainer thing could any Prince devise,  
Then so himself a foolish fowl to show?  
Learn you by me, that count yourselves so wise,  
The worst to doubt of things, what ere you know.  
Fly not so high for fear you fall so low.  
Be wise in arts, exceed not wisdoms bound,  
The depth of art by wit may not be found.   

These curious art's allurements have alone,  
They proffer much in recompense of pain:  
But yet amongst a thousand scarce is one  
In practice, aught by them can save or gain.  
In their effects they are but false and vain,  
Sophistical, deceitful, and untrue,  
That nothing have, yet promise all to you.   

I speak not of the rest that are in use  
Amongst the wiser sort, Philosophy,  
Nor of the parts thereof, but of th' abuse  
That comes by magic arts of Imagery,  
By vile enchantments, charms, and parnpestrie,  
All which by nature are abhorred as evil,  
Practised by fools, invented by the devil.   

To make an end: you noble Kings content  
Yourselves with studies serving for the State:  
You Lords also with all your wits invent  
What way t'eschew the Prince and people's hate.  
Ye Subjects love your Prince, eschew debate.  
I wish you all beware of climbing high,  
Lest that you helpless fall, as erst did I.    

HOW QUEEN CORDILA IN DESPAIR SLEW herself, the year before Christ, 800.  

IF any woeful wight have cause to wail her woe,  
Or griefs are passed do prick us Princes, tell our fall:  
Myself likewise must needs constrained eke do so,  
And show my like misfortunes and mishaps withal.  
Should I keep close my heavy haps and thrall?  
Then did I wrong: I wronged myself and thee,  
Which of my facts a witness true maistbee.   

A woman yet must blush when bashful is the case  
Though truth bid tell the tale and story as it fell:  
But sith that I mislike not audience, time, nor place,  
Therefore, I cannot keep my woes in counsel well.  
* No greater ease of heart than griefs to tell,  
It daunteth all the dolours of our mind,  
Our careful hearts thereby great comfort find.   

For why to tell that may recounted be again,  
And tell it as our cares may compass ease:  
That is the salve and medicine of our pain,  
Which cureth corsies all and sores of our disease:  
It doth our pinching pangs and pains appease:  
It pleads the part of an assured friend,  
And tells the trade, like vices to amend.   

Therefore if I more willing be to tell my fall,  
With my mishaps to ease my burdened breast and mind:  
Some others haply may avoid and shun the thrall,  
And thereby for distress more aid and comfort find.  
They keeping measure, whereas I declined,  
May be as prompt to fly like brute and blame  
As I to tell, or thou to write the same.   

Wherefore if thou wilt afterwards record  
What Queen Cordila tells to ease her inward smart:  
I will recite my story tragical each word  
To thee that giv'st an ear, and ready art.  
But lest I set the horse behind the cart,  
I mind to tell each thing in order, so,  
As thou mayst see and show whence sprang my woe.   

My grandsire Bladud hight, that found the baths by skill,  
A feathered King that practised high to soar:  
Whereby he felt the fall, God wot against his will,  
And never went, road, reigned, nor spoke, nor flew no more.  
After whose death my father Leire therefore  
Was chosen King, by right apparent heir,  
Which after built the town of Leircestere.   

He had three daughters fair, the first hight Gonerell,  
Next after her his younger Ragan was begot:  
The third and last was I the youngest, named Cordell.  
Us all our father Leire did love too well God wot.  
But minding her that loved him best to note,  
Because he had no son t'enjoy his land,  
He thought to guerdon most where favour most he found.   

What though I youngest were, yet men me judged more wise  
Than either Gonerell, or Ragan more of age:  
And fairer far: wherefore my sisters did despise  
My grace and gifts, and sought my wreck to wage.  
But yet though vice on virtue die with rage,  
It cannot keep her underneath to drown:  
For still she flits above, and reaps renown.   

My father thought to wed us unto Princely peers,  
And unto them and theirs divide and part the land.  
For both my sisters first he called (as first their years  
Required) their minds, and love, and favour t'understand.  
(Quoth he) all doubts of duty to aband,  
I must assay your friendly faiths to prove:  
My daughters, tell me how you do me love.   

Which when they answered him they loved their father more  
Than they themselves did love, or any worldly wight:  
He praised them, and said he would therefore  
The loving kindness they deserved in fine requite.  
So found my sister's favour in his sight,  
By flattery fair they won their father's heart,  
Which after turned him and me to smart.   

But not content with this, he asked me likewise  
If I did not him love and honour well.  
No cause (quoth I) there is I should your grace despise:  
For nature so doth bind and duty me compel,  
To love you, as I ought my father, well.  
Yet shortly I may chance, if Fortune will,  
To find in heart to bear another more good will.   

Thus much I said of nuptial loves that meant,  
Not minding once of hatred vile or ire:  
And partly taxing them, for which intent  
They set my father's heart on wrathful fire.  
She never shall to any part aspire  
Of this my Realm (quoth he) amongst you twain:  
But shall without all dowry aye remain.   

Then to Maglaurus' Prince, with Albany he gave  
My sister Gonerell, the eldest of us all:  
And eke my sister Ragan height to Hinnive to have,  
And for her dowry Camber and Cornwall.  
These after him should have his kingdom all.  
Between them both he gave it frank and free,  
But nought at all he gave of dowry me.   

At last it chanced a Prince of France to hear my fame.  
My beauty brave, my wit was blazed abroad each where.  
My noble virtues praised me to my father's blame,  
Who for I could not flatter did less favour bear.  
Which when this worthy Prince (I say) did hear,  
He sent embassage liked me more than life,  
And soon obtained me to be his wife.   

Prince Aganippus reaved me of my woe,  
And that for virtues sake, of dowries all the best:  
So I contented was to France my father fro  
For to depart, and hoped t'enjoy some greater rest.  
Where living well beloved, my joys increased:  
I gate more favour in that Prince his sight,  
Then ever Princess of a Princely wight.   

But while that I these joys so well enjoyed in France,  
My father Leire in Britain waxed unwieldy old.  
Whereon his daughters more themselves aloft t'advance  
Desired the Realm to rule it as they would.  
Their former love and friendship waxed cold,  
Their husband's rebels void of reason quite  
Rose up, rebelled, bereft his crown and right:   

Betwixt their husbands twain they caused him to agree  
To part the Realm, and promised him a guard  
Of sixty Knights that on him should attendant be  
But in six months such was his hap too hard,  
That Gonerell of his retinue bard.  
The half of them, she and her husband reft:  
And scarce allowed the other half they left.   

As thus in his distress he lay lamenting sates  
When as my sister so, sought all his utter spoil:  
The meaner upstart courtiers thought themselves his mates,  
His daughter him disdained and forced not his foil.  
Then was he fain for succour his to toil  
With half his train, to Cornwall there to lie  
In greatest need, his Ragans love to try.   

So when he came to Cornwall, she with joy  
Received him, and Prince Maglaurus did the like.  
There he abode a year, and lived without annoy:  
But then they took all his retinue from him quite  
Save only ten, and show'd him daily spite.  
Which he bewailed complaining durst not strive,  
Though in disdain they last allowed but five.   

What more despite could devilish beasts devise,  
Then joy their father's woeful days to see?  
What vipers vile could so their King despise,  
Or so unkind, so cursed, so cruel be?  
Fro thence again he went to Albany,  
Where they bereaved his servants all save one:  
Bade him content himself with that, or none.   

Eke at what time he asked of them to have his guard,  
To guard his noble grace where so he went:  
They called him doting fool, all his requests debarred,  
Demanding if with life he were not well content.  
Then he too late his rigour did repent  
'Gainst me, my sister's fawning love that knew  
Found flattery false, that seemed so fair in view.   

To make it short, to France he came at last to me,  
And told me how my sisters ill their father used.  
Then humbly I besought my noble King so free,  
That he would aid my father thus by his abused.  
Who nought at all my humble hest refused,  
But sent to every coast of France for aid,  
Whereby King Leire might home be well conveide,   

The soldiers gathered from each quarter of the land  
Came at the length to know the noble Princes will:  
Who did commit them unto captains every band.  
And I like wise of love and reverent mere good will  
Desired my Lord, he would not take it ill  
If I departed for a space withal,  
To take a part, or ease my father's thrall.   

He granted my request: Thence we arrived here,  
And of our Britain's came to aid likewise his right  
Full many subjects, good and stout that were.  
By martial feats, and force, by subjects sword and might,  
The British Kings were fain to yield our right.  
Which won, my father well this Realm did guide  
Three years in peace, and after that he died.   

Then I was crowned Queen this Realm to hold,  
Till five years passed I did this Island guide:  
I had the Britain's at what beck I would,  
Till that my loving King mine Aganippus died.  
But then my seat it faltered on each side.  
My sister's sons began with me to jar,  
And for my crown waged with me mortal war.   

The one height Morgan Prince of Albany,  
And Conidagus King of Cornwall and of Wales:  
Both which at once provided their artillery,  
To work me woeful woe, and mine adherents bales.  
What need I fill thine ears with longer tales?  
They did prevail by might and power, so fast,  
That I was taken prisoner at last.   

In spiteful sort they used then my captive corpse,  
No favour show'd to me, extinct was mine estate:  
Of kindred, Princes, blood, or peer was no remorse,  
But as an abject vile, and worse, they did me hate.  
To lie in dark some dungeon was my fate  
As 'twere a thief, mine answers to abide,  
'Gainst right and justice, under jailours' guide.   

For liberty at length I sued to subjects were:  
But they kept me in prison close, devoid of trust  
If I might once escape, they were in dread and fear  
Their fawning friends with me would prove untrue and just.  
They told me take it patiently I must,  
And be contented that I had my life:  
Sith with their mothers I began the strife.   

Whereby I saw might nothing me prevail to pray,  
To plead, or prove, defend, excuse, or pardon crave.  
They heard me not, despised my plaints, sought my decay,  
I might no law, nor love, nor right, nor justice have.  
No friends, no faith, nor pity could me save:  
But I was from all hope of freedom bard,  
Condemned, my cause like never to be heard.   

Was ever noble Queen so drenched in wrecks of woe,  
Deposed from Princely power, bereft of liberty,  
Deprived of all these worldly pomps her pleasures fro,  
And brought from wealth to need, distress, and misery,  
From Palace proud in prison poor to lie,  
From Kingdoms twain, to dungeon one, no more,  
From Ladies waiting, unto vermin store?   

From light to dark, from wholesome air to loathsome smell,  
From odour sweet to smart, from ease to grievous pain,  
From sight of Princely wights, to place where thieves do dwell:  
From dainty beds of down, to be of straw full fain:  
From bowers of heavenly hue, to dens of deign:  
From greatest haps that worldly wights achieve,  
To more distress than any wretch alive?   

When friends I left in France that did me first exalt,  
And eke my noble King, mine Aganippus true:  
And came to England: for their heinous facts and fault  
Which from his right and kingdom quite our father threw  
To take his Realm: to reign and treason knew  
I think of all misfortunes was the worst:  
Or else I deem the causers all accursed.   

For mark my hapless fall that fortune did me send,  
As thus in prison vile alive I lingering lay,  
When I had mourned long, but found no faithful friend  
That could me help, or aid, or comfort any way,  
Was served at meat as those that Kings betray  
With fare God wot was simple, bare, and thin  
Could not sustain the corpse it entered in.   

And when the sighs, and tears, and plaints nigh burst my hea●●  
And place, and stench, and fare nigh poisoned every poor:  
For lack of friends to tell my seas of guiltless smart,  
And that mine eyes had sworn to take sweet sleep no more,  
I was content, sith cares oppress me sore,  
To leave my food, take mourning, plaints, and cry,  
And lay me down, let grief and nature try.   

Thus as I pining lay, my carcase couched on straw,  
And felt the pain erst never earthly creature knew:  
Me thought by night a grizely ghost in darks I saw,  
Eke nearer still to me with stealing steps she drew.  
She was of colour pale and deadly hue,  
Her clothes resembled thousand kinds of thrall  
And pictures plain of hastened deaths withal.   

I musing lay in pains, and wondered what she was,  
Mine eyes stood still, mine hair rose up for fear an end,  
My flesh it shook and trembled: yet I cried (alas)  
What wight art thou? a foe? or else what fawning friend?  
If death thou art, I pray thee make an end,  
But th' art not death. Art thou some fury sent,  
My woeful corpse, with pains, to more torment?   

" With that she spoke: I am (quoth she) thy friend Despair,  
" Which in distress each worldly wight with speed do aid:  
" I rid them from their foes, if I to them repair.  
" Too long from thee by other captives was I staid.  
" Now if thou art to die no whit afraid,  
" Here shalt thou choose of Instruments (behold)  
" Shall rid thy restless life, of this be bold.   

And therewithal she threw her garments lap aside,  
Under the which a thousand things I saw with eyes:  
Both knives, sharp swords, poinadoes all bedide  
With blood, and poisons priest which she could well devise.  
" There is no hope (quoth she) for thee to rise,  
" And get thy Crown or Kingdom refte again:  
" But for to live long lasting pining pain.   

" Lo here (quoth she) the blade that Did ' of Carthage hight,  
" Whereby she was from thousand pangs of pain let pass:  
" With this she slew herself, after Aeneas flight,  
" When he to Sea from Tyrian shores departed was.  
" Do choose of these thou seest from woes to pass,  
" Or bide the end, prolong thy painful days  
" And I am pleased from thee to pack my ways.   

With that was I (poor wretch) content to take the knife,  
But doubtful yet to die, and fearful fain would bide.  
So still I lay in study with myself, at bate and strife  
What thing were best of both these deep extremes untride.  
Good hope all reasons of Despair denied:  
And she again replied to prove it best  
To die: for still in life my woes increased.   

She called to mind the joys in France I whilom had,  
She told me what a troop of Ladies was my train:  
And how the Lords of France, and Britain's both were glad  
Of late to wait on me, and subjects all were fain.  
She told I had been Queen of kingdoms twain,  
And how my kinsmen had my seat and Crown.  
I could not rise, for ever fallen down.   

A thousand things beside recited then Despair,  
She told the woes in wars, that I had heaped of late:  
Rehearsed the prison vile in steed of Palace fair,  
My lodging low, and mouldy meats my mouth did hate.  
She showed me all the dungeon where I sat,  
The dankish walls, the darks, and bade me smell,  
And bide the savour if I liked it well.   

Whereby I wretch devoid of comfort quite and hope,  
And pleasures passed compared with present pains I had:  
For fatal knife slipped forth my fearful hand did grope,  
Despair in this to aid my senseless limbs was glad,  
And gave the blade: to end my woes she bad.  
I will (quoth I) but first with all my heart  
I'll pray to Gods, revenge my woeful smart.   

If any wrong deserve the wreck, I pray you skies  
And stars of light (if you my plight do rue)  
O Phoebus clear I thee beseech and pray likewise,  
Bear witness of my plaints well known to Gods are true.  
You see from whence these injuries they grew.  
Then let like vengeance hap and light on those  
Which undeserved were my mortal foes.   

God grant immortal strife between them both may fall,  
That th' one the other may, without remorse, destroy:  
That Conidagus may his cousin Morgan thrall,  
Because he first decreased my wealth, bereft my joy.  
I pray you Gods he never be a Roy:  
But caitiff may be paid with such a friend,  
As shortly may him bring to sudden end.   

Farewell my Realm of France, farewell, Adieu,  
Adieu mes nobles tous, and England now farewell:  
Farewell Madams my Ladies, car ie suis perdu  
Il me fault aler desespoir m'adonne counsel  
De me tuer, no more your Queen farewell.  
My cousins me oppress with main and might  
A captive poor, 'gainst justice all and right.   

And there withal the sight did fail my dazzling eyen,  
I nothing saw save sole Despair bade me dispatch:  
Whom I beheld, she caught the knife from me I ween.  
And by her elbow carian death for me did watch.  
Come on (quoth I) thou hast a goodly catch.  
And therewithal Despair the stroke did strike,  
Whereby I died, a damned creature like:   

Which I too late bewail. Let those alive beware,  
Let not the loss of goods or honours them constrain  
To play the fools, and take such careful cark and care,  
Or to despair for any prison, pine, and pain.  
If they be guiltless let them so remain.  
far greater folly is it for to kill  
Themselves despairing, then is any ill.   

Sith first thereby their enemies have that they desire,  
By which they prove too deadly foes unwares a friend:  
And next they cannot live, to former bliss t'spire,  
If God do bring their foes in time to sudden end.  
They lastly, as the damned wretches, send  
Their souls thereby to darksome Stygian lake  
Which kill the corpse that mighty jove did make.    

HOW KING MORGAN OF ALBANY was slain at Glamorgan in Wales, The year before Christ, 766.  

I Wot not well what reason I may use,  
To quit myself from lasting infamy:  
Wherefore I must perforce myself accuse,  
I was in fault I cannot it deny.  
Remorse of conscience pricks my heart so nigh.  
And me torments with pangs of pinching pain,  
I can no longer me from speech refrain.   

I am that Morgan son of Gonerell  
Th' ungrateful daughter of her father Leire:  
Which from his kingdom did him once expel,  
As by the British stories may appear.  
Ragan and she conspired (both sisters were)  
But were subdued again and caused to yield  
Their father's Crown: Cordila won the field.   

I need not here the stories all recite,  
It were too long, but yet I briefly shall:  
The cause Cordila ought her sister's spite  
Was, they procured her, and their father's thrall.  
Yet 'twas her chance at length t'outliue them all,  
Both sisters elder, and her father grave,  
And eke at length the kingdom all to have.   

That time was I, of Albany, the King,  
Called Scotland now, and eke my cousin then,  
Of Cornwall and of Wales, whom I did bring  
To war, against Cordila and her men:  
We said we would our title win again,  
And that because our fathers had it yore,  
We meant to get it ours again therefore.   

I must confess I was the cause of war,  
I was not pleased with that was lotted me:  
Even so our minds ambitious often are  
And blinded, that we cannot reason see.  
We think no men, but Gods on earth we be,  
Yet worse are we then beasts which know their kind:  
For we have nought but mischief oft in mind.   

We think, if so we may our wills attain  
By right or wrong, by might or malice, we  
Could never live like Fortune for to gain:  
Or if on foes we once revenged be,  
If that our foeman's fall we chance to see,  
O then we joy, we lift ourselves to sky,  
And on the poor we crucifige cry.   

I deemed if that I might once put her down,  
The Kingdoms all were Conidags and mine:  
And I could easily after win the crown,  
If also I his state might undermine.  
I thought, indeed, to have it all in fine:  
By force or fraud I did intend alone  
To sit as King upon the Britain throne.   

To speak in few, we waged war so long  
'Gainst her, at last we put her unto flight:  
We warriors for our Aunt were far too strong,  
Pursued and took, deprived her of her right.  
We thought it ours what so we won by might:  
Eke so play tyrants: Traitors all do watch  
To get by spoil, and count their own they catch.   

Not so contented were we with the pray,  
But fearing lest she should recover aid:  
I sent in haste to prison her away,  
And all recourse of messengers denayed.  
Thus when she saw her Majesty decayed,  
And that her griefs and sorrows daily grew:  
In prison at the length herself she slew.   

O caitiff vile, that did constrain a Queen,  
That justice meant, her kingdom to forsake?  
Nay traitor I, her cause of death have been,  
That would myself by bloodshed ruler make.  
How could revenge on me but vengeance take?  
Before the seat of God her blood did call  
For vengeance still, and so procured my fall.   

Lo here God's justice: see my treason, see:  
Behold and see, to reign was my delight:  
And mark, and make a mirror here of me,  
Which afterward was served by justice right.  
We won the crown between us both in fight:  
And then because I was the elder son  
Of th' elder Queen, I claimed all we won.   

So were my dealings nought in peace and war,  
But by my force and fortunes used in fight,  
I passed, that time, the Britain's all by far:  
I was of person, fortitude, and might  
Both comely, tall, strong, seemly eke in sight,  
Whereby I won men's favour, glory, wealth,  
And, puffed with pride, at length forgot myself.   

I said it was my right the crown to have,  
But Conidagus stoutly it denied:  
Wherefore I went to Wales, my right to crave,  
With all mine army, and to have it tried.  
Where long we fought it stoutly on each side,  
Till at the last unto my woeful pain,  
I was deprived of kingdom quite, and slain.   

And for to keep in memory for aye  
That there unfaithful Morgan lost his life,  
The place is called Glamorgan to this day.  
There was I pierced to death with fatal knife:  
There was the end of all my hateful strife.  
So Morgan, where he thought to win the crown,  
Was at Glamorgan traitor stricken down.   

Thus mayst thou tell how proud ambition proves,  
What hap have tyrants, what we Traitors have:  
What end he hath that cruel dealing loves,  
What subjects get that Diadem do crave.  
'tis better, then to win, thine own to save:  
For so orethwartly trade of Fortune goes,  
When win thou wouldst, than art thou sure to lose.    

HOW KING JAGO DIED OF THE LETHARGY, about the year before Christ, 612.  

Have I o'erslept myself, or am I wake?  
Or hadst thou late o'erslept thyself that wrote?  
Couldst thou not for the Letharge pains to take:  
And with the rest his sleepy life to note?  
Was I amongst the wicked wights forgot?  
Well then, awaked sith we are both twain,  
To write my sleepy sinful life, take pain.   

I am that jago, once of Britain King,  
That ruled all this noble British Isle:  
No fame of me the writers old do bring,  
Because my life and government was vile.  
Yet, Higgins, here take pains for me a while,  
Enregester my mirror to remain,  
That Princes may my vices vile refrain.   

At first, a while, I ruled well the land,  
I used justice, right took regal place:  
No wight but found just judgement at my hand,  
And truth durst show, without rebuke, her face.  
I gave myself to all good gifts of grace,  
My subjects lived in rest within my reign:  
No cause of Prince compelled them to complain.   

But as in calm a storm we nothing fear,  
When as the seas are mild and smooth as glass:  
And as in peace no thought of wars we bear,  
Which least suppose of mischiefs come to pass:  
Even so my still and rightful reigning was.  
The calm, a tempest bodes: the shine, a rain:  
Long peace, a war: and pleasure, pinching pain.   

For rest, and peace, and wealth abounding thee,  
Made me forget my justice late well used:  
Forsaking virtues, vices 'gan to flow,  
And formernoble acts I quite refused.  
My gifts, my treasures, wealth and will misused,  
Began all goodness quite at length disdain,  
And did my facts with filthy vices stain.   

Misgoverned both my Kingdom and my life,  
I gave myself to ease, to sleep, and sin:  
And I had clawbacks even at Court full rife,  
Which sought by outrage golden gains to win.  
For * King's no sooner well or worse begin,  
But even at hand the good or bad take pain,  
For virtues sake, or meed, the Prince to train.   

As vices grew increasing more and more,  
So virtues fled and bade their friends a dew:  
Diseases bade likewise, and sickness sore  
Began to wax, and griefs about me grew.  
I may full well my naughty surfeits rue,  
Which pestered so at length my drowsy brain,  
I could not scarce from sleeping ought refrain.   

A sleepy sickness named the Lethargy,  
Oppressed me sore, till death took life away:  
This was the guerdon of my gluttony,  
As with the candles light the fly doth play,  
Though in the end it work her lives decay:  
So of the glutton's cup so long I drunk,  
Till drowned in it with shameful death I sunk.   

physicians wise may take on them the cure,  
But if jehova smite the Prince for sin,  
As erst of me, than is the help unsure,  
That's not the way for health to enter in.  
No potions then, nor powders worth a pin:  
But even as we, they must to die be fain.  
Bid them in time from vices now refrain.    

HOW KING FORREX WAS SLAIN by his brother King Porrex, about the year before Christ 491.  

TO tell my story on the tragic stage  
Compelled I am amongst the rest that fell:  
I may complain that felt god Mars his rage,  
Alas that fate to State should be so fell  
Had I been meaner borne I know right well  
There had no envy undermined my State,  
Nor fortune foiled the seat whereon I sat.   

While that my Kingly Sire Gorbodug reigned  
I had no care, in honour I did live:  
Would God I had in that estate remained,  
But what us fortune wont is to give,  
Good hap that holds as water in a siue:  
She shows a glimpse of thousand joys, and more,  
Which hides in it ten thousand seas of woe.   

That hateful hellish hag of ugly hue,  
With rusty teeth and meygre corpse misshape,  
I mean that monstervile, the worst in view,  
Whom some call Discord, envy, ire and hate:  
She set my brother first with me at bate:  
When we five years had reigned jointly well,  
By her enticements, foul at strife we fell.   

We lived that space well in this noble I'll,  
Divided well we jointly did enjoy  
The Princely seat, while Fortune fair did smile,  
Without disdain, hate, discord or annoy:  
Even as our father reigned the noble Roy  
In wealth, peace, praise, purport, renown and fame,  
Without the blots of everlasting blame.   

But when ambition bleared both our eyes,  
And hasty hate had brotherhood bereft:  
We friendship fair and concord did despise,  
And far a part from us we wisdom left:  
Forsook each other at the greatest heft.  
To rule the kingdom both we left, and fell  
To warring, jarring like two hounds of hell.   

For bounds we banded first on either side,  
And did encroach each one on others right.  
T'enlarge the limits of our kingdom wide,  
We would not stick oft times in field to fight,  
The wretched ground had so bewitched our sight.  
For why, * the earth that once shall eat us all,  
Is th' only cause of many Prince's fall.   

* On th' earth we grieve the ground for filthy gain,  
On th' earth we close the earth t'enlarge our land,  
In th' earth we moil with hunger, care, and pain,  
We cut, we dig thence silver, gold, and sand.  
Into her bowels by the force of hand,  
With steel and iron we do dig profound,  
Working her woe to make our joys abound.   

For th' earth forget we God, (unfaithful fools)  
For ground forsake we faith and all our friends:  
For th' earth we set ourselves to subtle schools,  
Of ground like swine we seek the farthest ends.  
We spoil the ground that all our living lends,  
Of ground to win a plat a while to dwell  
We venture lives, and send our souls to hell.   

If we behold the substance of a man,  
How he is made of Elements by kind,  
Of earth, of water, air, and fire: than  
We would full often call unto our mind,  
That all our earthly joys we leave behind:  
And when we pass to th' earth we turn to rot:  
Our pomp, our pride, and glory is forgot.   

The fire first receives his heat again,  
The air the breath bereaves away by right:  
The watery and the earthly parts remain,  
Of Elements composed scarce so light.  
And in the ground a place is for them dight.  
The moistures dry, the bones consume to dust,  
The worms with flesh suffice their greedy lust.   

But we forget our composition old,  
Both whence we came, and whereunto we shall:  
We scarce remember we be made of mould,  
And how the earth again consumeth all.  
This great forgetfulness breeds Prince's thrall.  
While present joys we gaze upon, mean while  
A fading bliss doth all our wits beguile.   

All this I speak to th' end it may advise  
All Princes great, and noble peers that are,  
To learn by me the rather to be wise,  
And to abandon hate and malice far.  
To banish all ambitious bloody war:  
To live content in peace, with their estate:  
For * mischief flows from discord and debate.   

And now I'll tell what discord vile hath done  
To me King Forrex. Thus the case it stood:  
I thought indeed to have some castles won  
And holds, which were my brothers, strong and good.  
So might I intercept his victuals, forage, food,  
Abate his pride, obtain the kingdom all:  
Me thought the half a portion was too small.   

there's no man takes an enterprise in hand,  
But he persuades himself it is not ill:  
He hath of reasons eke in steed to stand  
As he supposeth framed wise by skill.  
So I was led by reason rude, to kill  
My brother, if I caught him at the nick,  
Because the quarrel first he 'gan to pick.   

And for because I was the elder Prince,  
The elder son, and heir unto the crown:  
Me thought no law, nor reason could convince  
Me from the fact, though I did beat him down.  
This was my way to win and reap renown.  
I did provide an army strong for field,  
Not far from where I hoped to cause him yield.   

And sundry sharp assaults on each we gave,  
On purpose both inflamed for to fight:  
We had in parley heard the counsel grave  
Of wise and worthy men, persuading right.  
It pity was (they said) so foul a sight  
That brethren twain, both Princes of a land,  
Should take at home such woeful wars in hand.   

But where ambition dwells is no remorse,  
No country's love, no kindred holden kind,  
No fear of God, no sentence wise of force  
To turn the heart, or mollify the mind.  
Good words are counted wasting of your wind.  
The gain proposed, the crown and sceptre high,  
Are th' only things where at men gaze and prie.   

At length my brother for to end the strife,  
Thought best to work the surest way to win:  
He found the means to take away my life,  
Before which time the wars could never lin.  
How much might better both contented been!  
For * hope will slip, and hold is hard to snatch.  
Where blood embrues the hands that come to catch.   

Thus our ambition bred our subjects smart,  
Our broils poured out their guiltless blood on ground:  
Which vile device of mine ambitious heart  
Procured jove my purpose to confound.  
Therefore beware ye wights whose wealths abound,  
Content yourselves in peace to spend your days,  
By virtues good aloft your names to raise:    

HOW KING PORREX WHICH SLEW HIS brother, was slain by his own mother and her maidens, about the year before Christ, 491.  

CAn cursed Cain that caitive excuse himself,  
That slew his brother Abel innocent?  
Or Typhon who for state and worldly pelf  
His dear Osiris down to Limbo sent?  
King Dardan then to do the like may try,  
They slew their brethren each: and so did I.   

The witch Medea rend in pieces small  
Absirtus limbs her brother, did not she?  
She threw him in the way dismembered all,  
That so her father's journey staid might be.  
Orodes slew his brother Mithridate:  
And so did I my brother in debate.   

Learchus slew his brother for the Crown,  
So did Cambrses fearing much the dream:  
Antiochus of infamous renown  
His brother slew, to rule alone the Realm.  
Ardieus did the like for kingdoms sake:  
So I my brother's life away did take.   

Mempricius jewde of life likewise did kill  
His brother Manlius, for the same intent:  
These Princes vile were brother slayers ill,  
For kingdoms sake unnaturally bend.  
But read the stories, thou shalt find it plain  
The bloody wretches all were after slain.   

Even so I Porrex eke, which slew my brother,  
And ruled once the Britain land with him,  
Unkindly killed was by my cruel mother,  
Which with her maideus chopped me every limb.  
As I lay sleeping on my bed at rest,  
Into my chamber full and whole they priest.   

Appointed well they were with weapons sharp,  
And boldly laid on me with all their might:  
Oft quite and clean they thrust me through the heart,  
And on my corpse each where their weapon's light.  
They chopped me small (I say) as flesh to pot,  
And threw me out, my limbs yet trembling hot.   

Can I complain of this revenge she reached,  
Sith I procured the slaughter of her son?  
Can I excuse myself devoid of fault,  
Which my dear Prince and brother had fordone?  
No; 'tis too true that * who so slays a King  
Incurs reproach, and slaughter blood doth bring.   

The traitors to their Prince have always been  
As slayers of their parents, viper's brood:  
The killers of their brothers, friends, and kin,  
In like degree well nigh of treason stood.  
But what by this win they, save death, defame,  
Distain their blood, and shroud themselves with shame.   

Example take you Princes of this land,  
Beware of discord, shun ambitious pride:  
By right take ye the sceptre in your hand,  
Let not your sword with sovereigns' blood be died.  
The mighty jove, that reigns eternal aye,  
Cuts off the Kings that enter in that way.   

usurpers may persuade themselves a while  
There is no God, no laws of sacred crown:  
No wrong they do, no murder seemeth vile,  
Nor no respect of Princely high renown.  
But if they could consider well the case,  
They would not so aspire to Prince's place.   

They would example take by Lucifer,  
That was cast down, the father first of pride:  
And all his imps how high so ere they were,  
Usurping Realms and Kingdoms far and wide.  
From light to dark, from throne to thrall they fell:  
From bale to bliss and down from heaven to hell.   

Sufficient here is said to warn the wise,  
For he by prudence oft forecasts the doubt:  
The fool is bend all warnings to despise,  
He runneth headlong with the rascal rout.  
Then if thou cast to live at rest a subject good,  
Touch not the Prince, crown, sceptre, nor his blood.    

HOW KING PINNAR WAS SLAIN IN Battle by Mulmucius Donwallo, about the year before Christ, 441.  

MIght oftentimes right overrunnes too fast,  
Right after comes and hopes to have his own:  
And when he overtakes might at the last;  
Then is the truth of all the quarrel known.  
Men never reap no other, than was sown,  
If good be gain, the better comes the crop,  
The grape grows on the vine and not the hop.   

Of this now spoken, this would I infer,  
Men may by might a kingdom long withhold  
Not due to them: but they far better were  
To yield unto the right, what reason would.  
Good metals bides the touch, which tries the gold,  
When copper counted counterfeit in cast,  
Is deemed but dross and called in at last.   

I am that Pinnar, who when Brutus blood  
Extincted was in bloody Porrex reign,  
Amongst the Princes in contention stood,  
Who in the Britain throne by right should reign  
'mongst whom by might a part I did obtain,  
That part of Albion called Logria hight,  
I did long time usurp against all right.   

Stater who stepped into the Scottish throne,  
And Rudacke, that usurped the Cambrian crown  
Their minds to mine did frame and joined in one,  
To keep the Cornish Prince stout Cloten down,  
Twixt whom and us in fight, for renown  
Fair Lady Albion Europe's wondered isle,  
Robbed of her beauty was, alas the while.   

Duke Cloten, though a man of worthy praise,  
Who claimed the crown as due to him by right:  
Could not prevail till death did end his days,  
His son Mulmucius that undaunted Knight  
Pursued his father's claim with all his might,  
And meeting us in many a bloody field,  
At length in manly fight did make us yield.   

He Lion-like himself with his tall troup  
Of nimble Cornish met us on the way,  
And to his conquering arm did cause us stoop,  
The price of treason I with blood did pay,  
My wrong deemed right appeared in my decay.  
Who so by violence scales the throne of State,  
Seldom sits sure, but falls by violent fate.    

HOW KING STATER OF SCOTLAND was slain by Mulmucius Donwallo, about the year before Christ, 441.  

DEsist not in histories truly to tell  
The fall of usurpers the mirrors of pride.  
Recite of our treasons, and how that we fell,  
Intruders untrusty the Realm for to guide:  
Of wit and of reason reckless and wide,  
That took so upon us to rule all the land,  
No Princes presumed yet with sceptre in hand.   

How stately I Stater of Scotland the King,  
Did bear me full stoutly when I had the crown:  
And what a great army of Scots I did bring,  
Against Lord Donwallo, of noble renown.  
I deemed dame Fortune would never so frown,  
Who made me a Prince, that kingdom my prey,  
Of late but a subject and simple of sway.   

But here now behold how steady the state  
Of climbers aloft is above their degree,  
And how they do fall from fortune to fate,  
Example are such as my fellow and me.  
The fruit gives a taste of the sap of the tree,  
The seed of the herb, the grape of the vine:  
The work wrayes the man, seem he never so fine.   

For when I had levied an army to fight,  
I joined with Pinnar, my power to prevail:  
And Rudacke of Wales came eke with his might,  
Mulmucius Donwallo the King to assail.  
Our purpose the Prince by prows did quail,  
Which came out of Corn wall, us vanquished in field,  
Our soldiers were slaughtered, or forced to yield.   

O fortune I blame thee, myself more unwise:  
Thou gav'st me a kingdom, with life I it lost.  
My soldiers were killed before mine own eyes,  
Or forced to yield, or abandon the coast.  
I need not of honour or dignity boast,  
Or tell of my triumphs, or crack of my crown:  
* The vaunt of usurpers is void of renown.    

HOW KING RUDACKE OF WALES WAS slain by Mulmucius Donwallo about the year before Christ, 441.  

RVde are the revels royalty that rape,  
Restless the reigns of rebels in the rob,  
Reck less the rage where cruelty doth scrape,  
Roundness esteemed but little of the globe,  
No man ambitious prudent with the probe,  
Crownerape accounted but cunning and skill,  
Bloodshead a blockehouse to beat away ill.   

The rudeness of rebels reaching the crown,  
May be compared to Bladhuds' fond device.  
Better sit still then fall so far adown,  
By my mishaps let other men be wise.  
Myself of climbing have paid well the price,  
That rudely in throne myself did install  
Aloft, not regarding how low I might fall.   

When Britain was restless, wanting a King,  
(For Forrex hight and Porrex both were slain)  
The land many peers ambitious did wring,  
Endeavouring each the Kingdom to gain.  
The heirs to forsake it wrong did constrain,  
The subjects were armed, we nobles did strive,  
At length we amongst us division contrive.   

Then reckless we were when all was at rest,  
And each had a kingdom allotted his part:  
The vice of the subjects daily increased,  
And justice and right were laid quite apart.  
The laws overlashed by covin and craft,  
And we that did govern did wink at this gear:  
The worse thereby, our faithful friends were.   

The ball that dame Fortune emparteth of bliss  
Is golden to gaze on, but voluble round:  
If once of your handfast in holding you miss,  
Away than it roleth, and you are on ground.  
Of watchers thereon so many abound,  
And catchers thereat, with snatching therefore,  
That if once you lose it, you catch it no more.   

A Chirurgeon that taketh a wound for to cure,  
If skilful and careful he searcheth it furst:  
The seaman doth sound to take the depth sure,  
By wisdom well taught for fear of the worst.  
But our vile ambition, blind, blockish, accursed,  
Not proving the sore, nor reckoning the sound,  
Our ships and our science we sink and confound.   

Ambition out searcheth to glory the grease,  
The stair to estate, the grapple of grace:  
But in her is hid of peril a piece,  
Which all our attempts doth dim and deface.  
We do enjoy her vain joys but a space,  
Short, brittle as glass: false fair giving light:  
Not golden, though glittering brave in the sight.   

For when she hath brought us unto the throne,  
And Fortune hath fraught us with honour at fill:  
Then there to sit steady and rule all alone  
We rack our devices, and send with our skill.  
We cut off occursions; we prole, pole, and pill:  
We bolster, we band out, to bribe, banish, slay  
The pillars of prudence that stand in our way.   

Our race is then restless, our sleeping unsound:  
Our waking is warfare, our walking hath woe:  
Our talking is trustless, our cares do abound:  
Our fawners deemed faithful, and friendship a foe.  
Which troubles our fancies so tossed to and froo,  
That scarcely we never enjoy any rest  
Tormented, whom Fortune exalted and blest.   

This thing can I witness what troubles ensue.  
What cares do us compass enhanced aloft:  
I therefore wish rebels to take better view  
Of the falls of iutruders, recorded so oft.  
Who climbeth so high his fall is not soft.  
If once he do stagger or falter aside,  
He cannot recover the rest for to guide.   

When I who with others did think myself sure,  
Here ruled the realm, there fell out a flaw:  
Donwallo did seek the Crown to procure,  
Alleging a title thereto by the law.  
Who, when to field our powers we did draw,  
Came strait with an host prepared to fight,  
With sword for to try out whose title was right.   

Our number was great, our title unjust:  
Our consciences guilty, our soldiers aghast:  
Donwallo with honour had soldiers of trust:  
And Fortune was friendly to them as they passed.  
They slew of our men by manhood full fast,  
Or forced them to fly: in the field we were fain  
T'oppose them (poor Princes) and so we were slain.   

First Pinnar, than Stater, I Rudacke likewise  
At last was with number oppressed dispatched.  
Let Lordings beware how aloft they do rise,  
By Princes and commons their climbing is watched.  
No sooner they have at the sceptre once snatched,  
But guilty themselves they deem worthy to die,  
And Gods powerful justice such sentence doth high.    

HOW THE NOBLE King Brennus, after many triumphant victories, at the siege of Delphos in Greece slew himself, about the year before Christ, 375.  

AMongst the noble martial worthy men,  
Renowned far, victorious great of fame,  
Though Authors sound my praise: eftsoons again  
Amongst the Britain Princes write the same.  
I am that Britain once that Brennus had to name:  
My facts, exploits in war, my conquest's life and end  
Do write as I recite, when time doth leisure lend.   

The mighty Monarch of this noble Isle  
Mulmucius who with conquering blade did free  
The Britan's troubled state from tyrant's vile,  
Was father both to Belinus and me.  
His noble acts and laws commended be.  
This Belinus (mine elder brother) was his heir,  
And Queen Corwenna was our mother wise and fair.   

When after him my brother had the crown,  
He was content to make me eke a king:  
He gave me Albany, where with renown  
I ruled a while by justice every thing.  
But at the last ambition made me bring  
An army thence, against my brother for to fight:  
Which rather ought t'have honoured him with homage right.   

When Belinus perceived me approach  
Unto his Realm, an army he addressed:  
He warned me I should not seek t'incroach  
That was not mine, for he was ready priest  
Me to repel: he willed me be at rest.  
I marched on, the armies met, we fiercely fought:  
My soldiers slain, to save myself by flight I fought.   

To Norway then, I fled for succour hence,  
Where good Elsingus reignde the gentle King:  
I told him what I was, and eke of whence,  
Desired his aid, me home again to bring.  
And he not only granted me this thing,  
But eke his daughter Samye fair to be my wife,  
With me in Albany to lead a Princely life.   

But while we were providing ships and men,  
The fame abroad of my return was spread:  
And Guthlake that was King of Denmark then,  
Provided with a navy me forlead.  
His eye on Samyes' beauty had so fed,  
That for her sake he must perforce my ships forlay,  
By force of arms to bear the Lady fair away.   

And when our navies met, he wild me yield  
This Lady strait, or else defend the cause:  
A thing (quoth I) requested erst but seld,  
Against of Gods and men the sacred laws.  
It hath not erst been heard'mongst wise men saws,  
That any King should claim the like by strife,  
Or make assault by wrong to win a Prince's wife.   

From words to fight we fell on either side,  
But on his side the conquest did appear:  
I yielded her that listed scarce abide,  
For she to him before did favour bear.  
By tempest than our navies severed were,  
And he perforce by storm on shores of Britain cast,  
For tribute hostage gave to Beline ere he passed.   

At seas turmoiled five days with raging wind,  
Sore wearied with the fight, the foil, and loss:  
And casting with myself in woeful mind,  
The cause why so God Neptune did me toss:  
And why false fortune my attempt did cross:  
I made a vow to kill the man that caused me fly,  
Or with my blood, the kingdom all from him to buy.   

The Seas alaid, at last my ships I found,  
And rigged again, at seas we met our foes  
The wandering Danes, where we beset them round  
In warlike sort, we did them all enclose,  
Even so the wheel of Lady Fortune goes,  
Abjects, casts down, turns topsie toruie quite,  
The men of late extolled with all her main and might.   

These ships my wants in some respect supplied  
With tackle, armour, victuals and the rest:  
And so to Britain land apace I hide,  
For kingdom lost to make again request:  
Or else by might and force away to wrest  
The sceptre from my brother Beline, and the crown,  
Which lay that time by North at Euerwike the town.   

To land I came, and threatened Beline sore,  
But he an army did with speed address:  
Which met me strait at th' entry on the shore,  
Our battles joined and fought with valiantness.  
But I was put in th' end to such distress  
To ships I flew, and took a few with me beside,  
And hoisting sails, for hap to Callia strands I hide.   

Arrived there, I travailed long to see  
The nature of the Country and the men:  
And for my purpose I disposed me,  
To please the Princes and the people then,  
In hope to see my country once again.  
To win my noble kingdom, or to wreak the wrong  
That I sustained exiled from native soil so long.   

When I had told the great mishaps I had  
Unto the Peers of France, some aid to crave:  
I could obtain no succour me to glad,  
Nor men, munition, ships, ne victuals have.  
I gate me thence to Duke Seginus grave,  
Of Provence then the Prince, renowned noble far,  
For prudence prompt in peace, and wisdom great in war.   

This worthy Duke received me with joy,  
(For of afflicted wights he had remorse)  
He heard me oft declare the great annoy  
That I had felt, and of my brother's force.  
How Guthlacke did my wife and me divorce:  
The broils at Sea, the toils I taken had at land:  
Which never could the face of Fortune's foil withstand.   

Thou Britain tall (quoth he) I rue thy fate  
Thou noble Prince (for so thou art in show)  
If I could now restore thee thine estate,  
Thou shouldst perceive what favour I thee owe.  
'tis Fortune's use t'exalt and overthrow.  
My counsel then is this, expect her grace a while,  
Till where she frowns she turn her friendly face and smile.   

So in his court he did me entertain,  
Where long I lived and bore myself full well:  
Sometimes to play the captain I was fain,  
To win some praise, as causes did compel,  
For when his subjects either did rebel,  
Or confines made inroads, to spoil or pray his land,  
Then appointed was to take the war in hand,   

In armour fierce, and stout, and strong was I,  
God Mars me gave a stern and stormy look:  
With feats of arms by land or seas to try,  
Experience taught me what I undertook.  
No pain, no toil nor danger I forsook,  
That might content the noble Duke of Savois mind,  
Whose bounteous grace, for aye my love to him did bind.   

In peace full mild I was, of comely grace,  
And wise in talk, as time occasion gave:  
And (though I say't) I had a Princely face,  
I could both hunt and hawk, and court it brave.  
Eke Fortunes past had made me sage and grave:  
More heedy all attempts to prosecute with skill:  
Rashness (by poofe I found) incurs the greatest ill.   

When Duke Seginus saw my humble heart,  
A regal Britain Prince, of royal blood,  
How I emploide myself and all my art,  
Mine active feats with grace and prows good  
To serve, and quail his foes that him withstood:  
He gave his Daughter unto me, a peerless dame,  
With her his Dukedom after him to guide the same.   

By her (when he was dead) ay Savoy had,  
A country fertile, famous for the soil.  
With liberal gifts the soldiers hearts I glad.  
To win the rests good will I took some toil,  
By banquets, jewels, gifts, or warlike broil:  
Still using all the means t'obeisance them to move,  
Eke all the ways that might allure them me to love.   

And settled so in honour great at rest,  
Without the fear of foreign foes, or nigh:  
I mused what for Britain wars was best,  
Which way I might again my quarrel try.  
Such restless heads have they that sit on high.  
O poor estate, how blessed were thou that sit'st below,  
How happy, safe and sure, if thou thy state couldst know?   

A council called for the same intent,  
I told the Lords my purpose for the war:  
How I to have my kingdom here was bend.  
They all agreed to levy near and far,  
Such soldiers good and captains stout that were.  
They offered service eke themselves to far with me,  
To win the crown by sword, or else revenged be.   

Concluding thus, a power provided was,  
Munition good, and victuals, shipping strong:  
On voyage so with hoist sails we pass,  
We cut the seas, and came apace along  
To Britain shores: In hope to wreck the wrong  
That oft before was done, or win the land again:  
Whence whilom twice I was to fly with danger fain.   

When we were landed here, ay Herold's scent  
To claim my Kingdom at his hands, my right:  
I bade them, if he were not so content,  
To sound defiance, fire, and sword, and fight.  
But of my message he esteemed light.  
He brought an army strong, appointed was the day  
Of battle, then to try who bears the Crown away.   

This when our mother saw Corwenna wise,  
That mortal wars we wage for kingdom sake:  
She with herself did many ways devise,  
A peace between her Martial sons to make,  
And with the Lords full oft did counsel take.  
Yet all in vain: there could no parley of peace prevail,  
But on we marched agreed each other to assail.   

The fields once pight, and time of battle come,  
In place where should be tried this quarrel sad,  
In armour eke the soldiers all and some,  
With all the force that might so soon be had,  
We captains using speech our men to glad,  
T'encourage them with promise proud of lasting fame:  
tween th' armies Corwenna stood that noble dame.  
And thus she spoke:   

" O out alas my sons what means this broil?  
" Will you in field my tender bowels harm?  
" What furies force you thus t'unkindly toil?  
" What mean your men for slaughter here to swarm?  
" Did not this womb once both enclose you warm?  
" And cannot now all Britain hold you brethren twain,  
" But needs by one of you his brother must be slain?   

" Cannot the fear of Ioues immortal hate,  
" Your mother's tears, nor woeful wail move?  
" Nor naked breasts you sucked your malice slake?  
" Nor cause t'embrace the sacred lore of love?  
" O everlasting jove that liv'st above!  
" Then I protest ere you do fight the field this day,  
" You shall in field (ungrateful sons) your woeful mother slay,   

" Between you both you shall bereave my life.  
" What woes (my sons) alive shall I sustain,  
" When I shall after this ambitious strife,  
" So many see of both your subjects slain?  
" And you with brother's blood your swords distain.  
" I shall (I say) in th' end of fight take woeful view,  
" Of that my son, which this my son his brother slew.   

" O rather now, my sons, leave off to jar,  
" Lay weapons both aside, take truce a while:  
" If you do love to spend your time in war,  
" Destroy not here at home your native I'll:  
" The present cause and quarrel is too vile.  
" join friendly both your army's faith, and firm the same,  
" To take some conquest great in hand of lasting fame.   

" Therein you may with greater honour deal,  
" By this you shall defame yourselves for aye.  
" Thereby you may enlarge your public weal,  
" By this yourselves and it shall quite decay.  
" Thereby you shall mine age with honour stay.  
" Thereby you shall most like your noble father be:  
" Which ere he wore the crown did conquer kingdoms three.   

" Once for my sake then join yet hands again,  
" Let me enjoy once both before I die.  
" I would to see you friends my sons be fain,  
" And hope I have you will not this deny.  
" I ask a thing shall never hurt pardie.  
" For if you now surcease, and love as brethren well,  
" Then all the world of this your concord aye shall tell.   

" And turning then to me thus wise she said:  
" Thou knowest, my son, how twice thou hast been foiled:  
" Thou twice to scape with life waste well apaid,  
" And since full far to country's strange haste toiled.  
" If now thou shouldst of life and all be spoiled,  
" (When live thou mayst in Princely sort with peerless joy)  
" What tongue can tell thy mother's grief and great annoy.   

" I hear thou hast in France a Dukedom good,  
" Of subjects good thou hast an army here:  
" Thou hast a wife that came of noble blood,  
" Thou needest at home no foes at all to fear.  
" What meanest thou then such mortal hate to bear,  
" Against my son thy brother here, which gave to thee  
" His kingdom half, the noble land of Albany?   

" Sith thine ambition first procured the strife,  
" Which didst in armour rise against thy King,  
" Against thy brother loved thee more than life,  
" Thou didst thy subjects his against him bring,  
" Think'st thou it was a wise or worthy thing?  
" If not: thou hast good cause thy treason all confess:  
" And though he drove thee hence, to love him ne'er the less.   

" Thou shalt therefore submit thyself to me,  
" And take a truce, a peace I will conclude:  
" Thy brother eke shall so contented be,  
" No quarrels old shall be again renewed.  
" These broils have oft my cheeks with tears bedewed,  
" My heart is rend, my hope bereaved, my joys are gone,  
" My life is lost, if you conjoin not both in one.   

" Then turning unto Belinus she spoke:  
" My noble son (quoth she) thou twice hast quailed  
" Thy brother's power, and mad'st him twice forsake  
" His native land, which I have oft bewailed.  
" What though thou have so oft before prevailed,  
" Think'st thou again the third time eke to win the field?  
" Or art thou sure to slay my son, or force him yield?   

" What glory canst thou get thereby in th' end?  
" Will not the world of your foul slaughters tell?  
" Will not they all that live, still discommend  
" The man that did his own dear brother quell?  
" Mempricius shameful acts are known too well,  
" And Porrex Britain's both, their noble brethren slew,  
" Confounded after both, examples good for you.   

" Now further this again to both I say:  
" Do not you rue these noble soldiers good?  
" Do not you see how many you shall slay?  
" Have you no care to shed their guiltless blood?  
" The state of tyrants never stable stood,  
" By bloodshed they do build, and prop their tottering State,  
" Reign, live and die despised, in never dying hate.   

" You noble men, in brief I speak to you,  
" And unto all the Captains of your bands:  
" And eke to all you soldiers good and true,  
" Which have the sway of bloodshed in your hands.  
" Consider well the state of both our lands:  
" You shall decrease your force, by discord and by strife,  
" Distain your bloods, and reave Corwennas of her life.   

" Then if that either Ioues immortal ire,  
" (Which ever hated slaughters such as these)  
" Or fear of Pluto's everlasting fire,  
" Or dangers threatened both by land and seas,  
" Or mothers mind (which both you ought to please)  
" Or countries love, or peace (which all are bound t'embrace)  
" May ought persuade, then let my just request have place.   

" If not, lo here my naked breast (quoth she)  
" Which once you both did suck in tender age.  
" Let both your swords in these first bathed be,  
" Perhaps this slaughter shall your thirsts assuage.  
" It shall be counted even as small outrage  
" To slay your mother pleading for a righteous peace,  
" As wage the wars which gods commands you to surcease.   

Much more she said which were too long to tell:  
And proffered forth to swords her naked breast.  
But when we both considered had full well  
Her woeful tears, her wise and grave request,  
They so to peace our haughty hearts addressed,  
We laid our weapons down: we met, and did embrace,  
All war was set aside, and Lady peace took place.   

We joined hands, our captains did the like,  
And eke the soldiers linked all in love:  
There was not one that did our truce mislike,  
Our peace did all to joy and marvel move.  
With many triumphs feats of arms we prove,  
Our subjects all rejoice, in songs we sound Corwennas' praise,  
Her fame to skies, aloft with many shouts and cries they raise.   

The Galls and Senons then supposing me  
In Britain from my Dukedom hard at fight,  
Thought great occasion offered them to be,  
And set themselves in arms and order right.  
My subjects eke of Savoy day and night  
They did entice, persuade, solicit and constrain,  
To choose another Duke at home with them to reign.   

Whereof when I heard tell in Britain I'll,  
Eke when my brother Beline thereof knew,  
We laid aside our sports and plays a while,  
And of our soldiers took a muster new.  
Of both our hosts we chose a noble crew.  
We passed the seas, as brethren ought, in concord knit:  
And both our force in one to conquer France we fit.   

Without resistance much we spoiled the land  
At th' entry in, and after many fights  
We conquered all the Realm, my foes we found,  
Which were in arms stout, valiant, noble wights.  
By sword they fell, or flew before our sights.  
The Germans force, likewise that did them succour send,  
We made to fall therefore, and to our sceptres bend.   

Three hundred thousand we in armour had,  
An army great renowned Europa through:  
The Kings and Princes of our peace were glad,  
We were in fight so puissant fierce and rough.  
Munition, victuals, money eke enough,  
We had of tributes store, of duties in that came:  
Through all the world of Brenne and Beline flew the fame.   

To us came soldiers out of many parts,  
And captains worthy for the fame of war,  
Of fierce Bellona brave we had the arts,  
Whereof we wan the praise both near and far.  
But not with this we so contented are.  
As Hercules to scale the Alps did first contend:  
So we again (a work of toil) the cloudy Alps ascend.   

The craggy mountains that do touch the skies,  
With aged heads are ever white with snow,  
The seas allow do roar, whence vapours rise,  
And from the hills great streams of waters flow.  
The paths so strict to pass which few do go.  
The ice, snow, cold, clouds, rambling storms, and sights above,  
Are able constant hearts with doubtful fear to move.   

For as you go, sometimes y''re feign to reach  
And hang by hands, to wend aloft the way:  
And then on buttocks down another breach,  
With elbows and with heels yourself to stay.  
Down under well behold the streams you may,  
And waters wild which from the mountains falling flow:  
o'er head the rocks hang threatening death to them below.   

When we these Alps had passed with dangers great,  
To Clusium town in Tuscan land we came:  
The Tuscans as we drove our herds of neat.  
Did issue out to intercept the same.  
embassage to the Romans eke they frame,  
To help them 'gainst the Galls (so us they counted there)  
Because I was of France, and Frenchmen with us were.   

The Romans then, because that our success  
Reported was to them in wars before,  
Fearing their own estate could do no less,  
But aid their neighbours now at need the more.  
To treat of peace they sent to us therefore.  
We answered we desired but space wherein to dwell,  
Because our peopled country could not hold us well.   

But they forgetting quite of arms the law,  
Did arm themselves, ambassadors full stout:  
With Clusians came to bring us all in awe,  
Without respect of any further doubt.  
Whereon, the siege from Clusium walls about  
We raised strait, at Rome we sounded loud alarms,  
To wreak revenge for breach done 'gainst the law of arms.   

Yet first we thought it best embassage send,  
To have truce breakers such delivered us  
By law of arms as ought no weapons wend,  
And yet against the laws came armed thus.  
They said we were a people barbarous,  
They neither punish would nor yield those Romans good,  
But honour them: they came of Fabius noble blood.   

Full swiftly on we marched then in haste,  
And towards Rome with all our power we hide:  
At Alia flood 'gan forty thousand taste  
Of Romans that us met what might betide.  
We slew them fast, the rest durst not abide.  
We had the spoil, to Rome we came, which we possess:  
A thousand weight of gold the Romans paid for peace.   

Pannonia eke with broils of wars we tame,  
And many years we kept them under yoke:  
The Princes all about that heard our fame  
Desired peace, not daring us provoke.  
We Britain's made Europa all to smoke.  
To part our armies then in twain we took no doubt,  
And several conquests took in hand, as captains stout.   

To Macedon Belme took the way,  
Where reigned Ptolemy the tyrant fell,  
Which did his sister's sons unjustly slay  
Before their mother's face, and her expel,  
Arsinoë that used him erst so well:  
Though by the gods he swore to take her to his wife,  
And love her sons, and here he them bereft of life.   

Even so that wicked King at first refused  
To purchase peace with price, or hostage send,  
That had before the faith of Gods abused,  
Was destinate to have a noughty end.  
Let Princes well beware what they pretend.  
* Who for a crown breaks faith, and murders foul commits,  
He will be sure to fall, on slippery throne he sits.   

Our custom was that time to send each where  
Our Hearolds offering peace for tribute gold:  
But from King Ptolemy these news we hear,  
No peace he craved, no tribute pay he would,  
Ne friendship craved (as he the Herald told)  
Except our weapons laid adown we would submit,  
No arguments of peace he would admit.   

King Beline smiled to hear the heedless King  
Rash witted, so self-willed, and after this  
The Dardanes offered twenty thousand bring  
Of soldiers armed for aid, to join with his.  
Quoth he, not lost all Macedon is.  
If we once conquered by Alexander's hand,  
Need we the Dardanes aid, these strangers to withstand?   

We have (quoth he) some soldiers sons of those  
Which served in pay with them that vanquished all:  
And for ourselves we nothing fear our foes,  
Although our army seem to Dardan small.  
This when th' ambassadors related all  
To good King Dardan, than this noble Realm (quoth he)  
By this young princox pride, will all despoiled be.   

With that alarm they cry, and armies join,  
Where Britain's slay the Macedonian crew:  
And have for spoil their victuals, armour, coin,  
took Ptolomey their King, and him they slew.  
His head above the camp they bear for view  
On spear, to make the rest of greeks in doubt to stand,  
Before they enterprise to take such wars in hand.   

On this the fame of Britain's far was spread,  
All Macedon held their country spoiled:  
To Alexander (erst their armies led)  
And unto Philip, Princes never foiled,  
As unto Gods they cry in wars tormoiled.  
O help (quoth they) our country falls, we are undone,  
Without your powerful aids: whose acts the world have won.   

But Sosthenes a Macedonian stout,  
When as the Britaines bathed in their bliss,  
Gate unto him a warlike worthy rout,  
And set again on Beline there and his,  
Put him to foil for all his worthiness.  
For which the soldiers all did choose him for their King,  
But them as captain he against their foes would bring.   

When this in Greece I heard, and their success  
First of the field they won, and folly then  
Enriched with spoils, given all to idleness,  
Which were before approved valiant men:  
I sound retreat, and backwards gate again,  
With seven score and ten thousand footmen for the fight,  
And fifteen thousand horse, which made a goodly sight.   

With these appointed well my friends to aid  
The Britain's good, and Beline in that case,  
To Macedon I marched with vengeful blade  
To take revenge for Belines late disgrace.  
Whereto when as we came, in little space  
We won the field in fight, we spoiled the land at will,  
In pleasures plunged we had of wealth, and fame, our fill.   

So I that had all Macedon in awe,  
With spoil of mortal men was not content:  
I passed not of these conquests all a straw,  
The temples of the gods to spoil I meant,  
And towards Delphos with mine army went.  
On high his temple stood most glorious to behold,  
And god Apollo's shrine enriched with gifts of gold.   

The rich and wealthy gods (quoth I) may lend  
To mortal men some of their treasures great:  
They have no need thereof for to dispend  
For clothing, victuals, armour, drink or meat.  
But yet we must therefore their priests entreat.  
There is enough for them, and many more beside,  
Of offerings great, from Princes brought both far and wide.   

This Delphos is on mount Parnassus fair  
In Greece, well fenced with rising rocks about,  
By nature placed aloft in pleasant air,  
So high to scale they need no foes to doubt.  
No watch, no ward to keep the walls about.  
So strong steep pendent are the rocks whereon it stands:  
As not the like could since be made with mortal hands.   

When in this city shouts aloud they make,  
Or when the trumpets sound therein is heard,  
The Echoes shrill so cause the skies to shake,  
That strangers staring stand and muse afeard.  
The words and tunes resound again so hard,  
So oftentimes about from every rock so plain,  
As if to one that cried, one cried to him again.   

This made the men that came from far to maze,  
To marvel much, to fear and wonder still:  
And at the sight thereof to stare and gaze,  
Devising oft the high and mighty hill,  
A building founded first by heavenly skill  
In city built, and costly graved with work of hand,  
Apollo's temple high above the rest doth stand.   

'tis round theatre wise so brave within  
And large aloft, without pendant upright,  
So high it seems impossible to win,  
With comely form the gazers to delight.  
The majesty whereof did them invite  
That chose that seat, t'erect a temple in the same,  
Whereof for Oracles was spread a wondrous same.   

Amidst the height of this Parnassus mount  
A turning way there is, and in the plain  
A den through rocks for deepness doth surmount,  
And turning vaults far in, whence answers vain  
The Priests receive from spirits to tell again.  
When any come for counsel there, of things to know:  
The answer of deluding spirits the Priests do show.   

Wherefore the Kings and people's offerings brought,  
From all the world and coasts of nations far:  
With many gifts of gold and silver wrought,  
The gold of Kings and jewels rich were there.  
To Delphos all they run that doubtful are.  
This was the madness than that mortal men bewitched:  
Whereby Apollo's Temple was with gold so enriched.   

Lo now I tell at Delphos what I did,  
For towards it as with my mates I went,  
Them be of courage good nought fear Ibid,  
With Delphos spoil them to reward I meant.  
But now I asked how they would give consent,  
Stout Exridane and Thessalone I did assay,  
Where it were good to scale, or else a while to stay.   

The captains counsel was alarm to call,  
Before the Grecians did provide defence:  
And strait to scale with skill the mighty wall,  
Before the city knew of our pretence.  
The soldiers stout abroad encamped thence,  
And said they must refresh their wearied limbs a space,  
Unable else to scale, or meet their foes in face.   

The greeks in villages to make them trip  
Entreated them to make no spare of wine:  
The Britain soldiers fell thereon to sip,  
Forgot their feats of war and played the swine.  
Against their captains eke they 'gan repine.  
So that full long it was or we could them persuade  
To fly from Bacchus' booths, and fall again to blade.   

Of soldiers thousands sixty five I had,  
But of our foes scarce fourteen thousand were:  
The stately town they see, their hearts to glad,  
I bade them not at all to stand in fear.  
Behold (quoth I) what doth in fight appear,  
Those charets glittering brave, and statures all of gold  
Of solid mass, more rich than glorious to behold.   

For on the Temple stood fair golden shapes,  
And in the walls thereof their pictures shone:  
Not one of these (quoth I) the Britain's 'scapes,  
We soldiers shall possess them every one.  
Let us therefore not linger here upon,  
But give th' assault: for here the God Apollo's pride,  
In price of gold, and gems, surmounts all Greece beside.   

We have or this the wealth of men possessed  
(Yet worthy Princes all) of mortal men:  
But here the treasures of the Gods are priest  
To look for us: shall we refuse them then?  
We shall not so be proffered oft again.  
Within the walls hereof are greater far by odds:  
Th' attire, crowns, sceptres, plate and garnish of the Gods.   

We sound Alarame, th' assault the rocks assays,  
Our soldiers brainsick, heedless up ascend:  
The Delphos men had fenced the easiest ways,  
So that against the rocks our force we bend.  
With stones the scaling Britain's down they heard.  
An earthquake eke by vows the sacrificers rear.  
Which on my soldiers down a mighty rock did tear.   

The ground did shake, and rend, and tempests rise,  
The hailstones mighty fall, the thunders roar:  
The lightnings flashing dazzled all our eyes,  
The Britain's from th' assault were overborne.  
My soldiers slain discomfit me before.  
And I sore wounded, foul amazed, o'ercome with smart,  
●'escape the Greekish sword, did pierce myself to th' heart.   

You noble captains now that know my facts,  
Learn valiantly in wars the sword to wend:  
Let fame extol your wise and warlike acts,  
And let report your fortitude commend.  
But let your warfares have a wiser end,  
And let what Bochas writes and Higgins here doth pen,  
Declare what good we gate, to war with Delphos men.    

HOW KING KIMARUS WAS DEVOVred by wild beasts the year before Christ, 321.  

NO place commends the man unworthy praise.  
No Kingly state doth stay up vices fall:  
No wicked wight to woe can make delays,  
No lofty looks preserve the proud at all.  
No brags or boast, no stature high and tall,  
No lusty youth, no swearing, staring stout,  
No bravery, banding, cogging, cutting out.   

Then what avails to have a Princely place,  
A name of honour or an high degree,  
To come by kindred of a noble race?  
Except we princely, worthy, noble be.  
The fruit declares the goodness of the tree.  
Do brag no more, of birth or lineage than,  
For virtue, grace, and manners make the man,   

Myself might brag, and first of all begin,  
Mulmucius made and constituted laws:  
And Belinus and Brenne his sons did win  
Such praise, that all the world give them applause,  
Gurgunstus Readbeard with his sober saws.  
The son of Beline and my Grandsire grand  
Was fortunate, what ere he took in hand,   

His son my grand fire Guintheline did pass  
For virtues praise, and Martia was his wife,  
A noble Queen that wise and learned was,  
And gave herself to study all her life,  
Devising laws, discussed the ends of strife  
Amongst the Britain's to her endless fame:  
Her statutes had of Martian laws the name.   

My father eke was sober, sage and wise,  
Cicilius hight, King Guintheline his son:  
Of noble Princes than my stock did rise,  
And of a Prince of Cornwall first begun.  
But what thereby of glory have I won?  
Can this suffice to answer eke for me,  
I came by parents of an high degree?   

Or shall I say I was forsooth the King?  
Then might I live as lewdly as I lust.  
No sure, I cannot so avoid the sting  
Of shame, that pricks such Princes are unjust.  
We rather should unto our virtues trust.  
For * virtue of the ancient blood or kin,  
Doth only praise the men that virtuous been.   

And nobles only borne (of this be sure)  
Without the virtues of their noble race,  
Do quite and clean themselves thereby obscure,  
And their renown and dignities deface.  
They do their birth and lineage all deface.  
For why, indeed they ever ought so well  
In virtues grave, as titles brave excel.   

But oft (God wot) they fare as erst did I,  
They think if once they come of Princely stock,  
Then are they placed safe and sure, so high  
Above the rest, as founded on a rock.  
Of wise men's warnings all they make a mock,  
They counsels grave, as abiectreeds, despise,  
And count the brave, men gracious, worthy, wise.   

This Kingdom came to me by due descent,  
For why my father was before me King:  
But I to pleasure all, and lust was bend,  
I never recked of justice any thing.  
What purpose I to pass did mean to bring,  
That same t'accomplish I with all my might  
Endeavoured ever, were it wrong or right.   

I deemed the greatest joys in earthly hap,  
I thought my pleasures ever would abide,  
I seemed to sit in Lady Fortune's lap,  
I recked not all the world, me thought, beside.  
I did by lust myself and others guide,  
Whereby the fates to work my bane withal  
And cut me off, thus wise procured my fall.   

As I was always bend to hunting still,  
(Yet hunting was no vice to those I had)  
When I three years had ruled this Realm at will,  
In chase a chance did make my heart full sad.  
Wild cruel beasts as desperate and mad  
Turned back on me, as I them brought to bay,  
And in their rage my sinful corpse did slay.   

A just reward for so unjust a life,  
No worse a death, than I deserved yore.  
Such wrecks in th' end to wretches all are rife,  
Who may and will not call for grace before.  
My wilful deeds were nought, what wilt thou more?  
For wanton wildness, witless, heedless toys:  
The brutish beasts bereaved me of my joys.    

HOW KING MORINDUS WAS Devoured by a monster, the year before Christ. 303.  

LEt me likewise declare my facts and fall,  
And eke recite what means this slimy glere:  
You need not feign so acquaint a look at all,  
Although I seem so fulsome every where.  
This blade in bloody hand, which I do bear,  
And all his gore bemingled with this glue,  
In witness I the dreadful monster slew.   

Then mark my tale: beware of rashness vile,  
I am Morindus, once a Britain King,  
On whom long time did Lady Fortune smile,  
Till to her wheels steep top she did me bring.  
My fame both far and near she made to ring,  
And eke my praise exalted so to sky,  
In all my time more famous none then I.   

Some say I was, by birth, a bastard base,  
Begotten of the Prince his concubine:  
But what I was declared well my grace,  
My fortitude, and stature Princely mine.  
My father eke that came of Princely line  
King Danius gave not so base degree,  
Nor yet the noble Britain's unto me.   

For feats of arms and warlike points I passed,  
In courage stout there lived not then my peer:  
I made them all that knew my name aghast,  
And hea● thou great mine enterprises were,  
To shrink and slink, and shift aside for fear.  
All which at length did me such glory bring,  
My father dead, the Britain's made me King.   

But see how blind we are, when Fortune smiles,  
How senseless we, when dignities increase:  
We ever use ourselves discreetly whiles  
We little have, and love to live in peace.  
subjecteth thoughts doth wicked pride suppress:  
We use no rigour, rancour, rapine, such  
As after, when we have our wills too much.   

For whiles that I a subject was, no King,  
While I had nothing, but my facts alone:  
I studied still, in every kind of thing  
To serve my Prince, and underfang his fone:  
To use his subjects friendly everichone:  
And for them all adventures such to take,  
As might them all my person favour make.   

But when I once attained had the Crown,  
I waxed cruel, tyrannous and fell:  
I had no longer mind of my renown,  
I used myself too ill, the truth to tell.  
O base degree in happy case full well!  
Which art not puffed with pride, vainglory, hate,  
But art beneath, content to bide thy fate.   

For I aloft, when once my heat was in,  
Not rained by reason, ruled all by might:  
Ne prudence recked, right, strength, or mean a pin,  
But with my friends, in anger all would fight.  
I struck, killed, slew who ever were in sight,  
Without respect, remorse, reproof, regard,  
And like a mad man in my fury fared,   

I deemed my might and fortitude was such,  
That I was able thereby conquer all:  
High kingdoms seat increased my pomp so much,  
My pride me thought impossible to fall.  
But God confounds our proud devices all,  
And brings that thing wherein we most do trust,  
To our destruction, by his judgement just.   

For when three years I ruled had this I'll  
Without all law, as was my lawless life,  
The rumour ran abroad within a while,  
And chiefly in the northwest country rife,  
A monster came from Th' irish seas, brought grief  
To all my subjects in those coasts did dwell,  
Devouring man and beast, a monster fell.   

Which when I knew for truth, I strait prepared  
In warlike wise myself to try the case:  
My haste thereto a courage bold declared,  
For I alone would enter in the place.  
At which, with spear on horse I fet my race,  
But on his scales it enter could no more,  
Then might a bulrush on a brazen door.   

Again I proved, yet nought at all prevailed  
To break my spear, and not to pierce his side:  
With that the roaring monster me assailed,  
So terrified my horse I could not ride.  
Wherewith I lighted, and with sword I tried  
By strokes to find a passage to his life,  
But now I found in vain was all my strife.   

And when I wearied was, and spent with fight,  
That kept myself with heed his danger fro:  
At last almost ashamed I wanted might  
And skill, to work the beastly monster wo.  
I gate me nearer with my sword him to,  
And thought his flanks or under parts to wound,  
If there, for scales, might any place be found.   

But frustrate of my purpose, finding none,  
And eke within his danger entering quite:  
The grizely beast strait seized me upon,  
And let his talants on my corpse to light.  
He gripped my shoulders, not resist I might:  
And roting with a greedy ravening look,  
At once in jaws my body whole he took.   

The way was large, and down he drew me in,  
A monstrous paunch for roomth and wondrous wide:  
But (for I felt more softer there the skin)  
At once I drew a dagger by my side.  
I knew my life no longer could abide  
For rammish stench, blood, poison, slimy glere  
That in his body so abundant were.   

Wherefore I labouring to procure his death,  
While first my dagger diggeth about his heart,  
His force to cast me well-nigh drew my breath.  
But as he felt within, his wounds to smart,  
I joyed to feel the mighty monster start,  
That roared, and belched, and groande, and plunged, and cried,  
And tossed me up and down, from side to side.   

Long so in pangs he plunged, and panting lay,  
And drew his wind so fast with such a power,  
That quite and clean he drew my breath away,  
We both were dead well nigh within an hour.  
Lo thus one beastly monster did devour  
Another monster moodles, to us pain:  
At once the realm was rid of monsters twain.   

Here mayst thou see of fortitude the hap,  
Where prudence, justice, temperance hath no place:  
How suddenly we taken are in trap,  
When we despise good virtues to embrace.  
Intemperance doth all our deeds deface,  
And lets us heedless headlong run so fast,  
We seek our own destruction at the last.   

For he that hath of fortitude and might,  
And thereto hath a kingdom joined withal:  
Except he also guide himself aright,  
His power and strength prewaileth him but small,  
He can not scape at length an hapless fall.  
You may perceive a mirror plain by me,  
Which may with wisdom well sufficient be.    

HOW KING EMERIANUS FOR HIS TYRANNY WAS DEPOSED, ABOUT THE year before Christ, 225.  

THe woeful wight that fell from throne to thrall,  
The wretch that wove the web wherein he goes:  
A doleful black bad weed still wear he shall  
In woeful sort, and nothing blame his foes.  
What need such one at all his name disclose?  
Except the rest of Britain princes should,  
Not here for shame recite his name he would.   

I am Emeriane King that reigned a space,  
Scarce all one year, in Britain Isle long sense,  
But for I was in manners void of grace,  
Fierce, tyrannous, and full of negligence,  
Blood thirsty, cruel, vain, devoid of sense,  
The Britain's me deposed, from seat and crown,  
And reaved me quite, of riches and renown.   

I was despised and banished from my blisle,  
Discountnanst, fain to hide myself for shame:  
What need I longer stand to tell thee this?  
Myself was for my woeful fall too blame.  
My reign was short in few my fall I frame.  
My life was loathsome, soon like death that found.  
Let this suffice a warning blast to sound.    

HOW KING CHRINNUS GIVEN TO DRUNKENNESS reigned but one year. He died about the year before Christ, 137.  

THough I my surfeits have not yet out slept,  
Nor scarce with quiet brows begin my tale,  
Let not my drowsy talk be over leapt,  
For though my belching scent of wine or ale,  
Although my face be fallo, puffed, and pale,  
And legs with dropsy swell, and paunch resound:  
Yet let me tell what vice did me confound.   

Perhaps thou thinkst so gross a blockhead blunt,  
A sleepy swinish head can nothing say:  
The greatest heads and smallest eke were wont  
To bear in them the finest wits away.  
This thing is true, thou canst it not denay,  
And Bacchus eke ensharps the wits of some,  
Foecundi calices quem non fecere desertum?   

Yet sith long since both brains and all were spent,  
And this in place amongst my mates I speak:  
I trust thou wilt be herewithal content,  
Although indeed my wits of talk are weak.  
So old a vessel cannot choose but leak.  
A drunken sot whose faltering feet do slip.  
Must pardon crave, his tongue in talk will trip.   

Chirinnus was my name a Britain King,  
But ruled short time: Sir Bacchus was my let:  
Erinnus eke my senses so did swing,  
That reason could no seat amongst them get.  
Wherefore the truth I pray thee plainly set.  
I gave myself to surfeits swilling wine,  
And led my life much like a drunken swine.   

Diseases grew, distemprance made me swell,  
My parched liver lusted still for baste:  
My timpane sounded like a taber well,  
And nought but wine did like my greedy taste.  
This vice and more my life and me defaced,  
My face was blown and blubd with dropsy wan,  
And legs more like a monster than a man.   

So not in shape I only altered was,  
My dispositions changed in me likewise:  
For vices make a man, a goat, an ass,  
A swine or horse, (as Poets can comprise)  
Transforming into beasts by sundry wise  
Such men as keep not only shape of men,  
But them mishapeth also now and then.   

Wherefore let who so loves to live long days  
Without diseases, strong, in youthful state,  
Beware of Bacchus' booth which all betrays,  
The vail of vices vain, the haven of hate,  
The well of weak delights, the brand of bate,  
By which I lost my health, life, Realm and fame,  
And only won the shrouding sheet of shame.    

HOW KING VARIANUS GAVE HIMSELF TO THE lusts of the flesh, and died about the year before Christ, 136.  

WHere no good gifts have place, nor bear the sway,  
What are the men, but wilful castaway?  
Where gifts of grace do garnish well the King,  
There is no want, the land can lack nothing.  
The Court is still well stored with noble men,  
In Towns and Cities Governors are grave:  
The common wealth doth also prosper then,  
And wealth at will the Prince and people have.   

Perhaps you ask, what Prince is this appears?  
What means his talk in these our golden years?  
A Britain Prince that Varianus hight,  
I held sometime the Sceptre here by right.  
And though no need there be in these your days  
Of states to tell, or virtues good discrive,  
Good counsel yet doth stand in stead always,  
When time again may vices old revive.   

If not: yet give me leave amongst the rest  
Which felt their fall, or had their deaths addressed:  
My cause of fall let me likewise declare,  
For * falls the deaths of vicious Princes are.  
They fall, when all good men rejoice or see  
That they short time enjoyde their places high.  
For Princes which for virtues praised be,  
By death arise, extolled they scale the sky.   

I will be short, because it may suffice  
That soon is said, to warn the sage and wise.  
Or if that they no warning need to have,  
This may perchance somewhat their labour save  
With those, that will not hear their faults them told,  
By such as would admonish them for love:  
When they my words and warnings here behold,  
They may regard and see their own behove.   

About my time the Princes lived not long,  
For all were given almost to vice and wrong:  
Myself voluptuous was abandoned quite,  
To take in fleshly lust my whole delight:  
A pleasure vile, that draws a man from thrift and grace,  
Doth just desires, and heavenly thoughts expel:  
Doth spoil the corpse, defiles the soul, and fame deface,  
And brings him down to Pluto's pains of hell.   

For this my sin my subjects hated me,  
Repining still my stained life to see.  
As when the Prince is wholly given to vice,  
And holds the lewder sort in greatest price,  
The land decay, disorder springs abroad,  
The worse sort do rob, pill, pole, and spoil  
The weaker force to bear the greatest load,  
And lose the goods for which they erst did toil.   

How can jehova just abide the wrong?  
He will not suffer such have sceptre long.  
As he did strike for sinful life my seat,  
And did me down from royal kingdom beat:  
The like examples are in stories rife,  
No wicked wight can govern long in rest:  
For either some bereaves him of his life,  
Or down his throne and kingdom is depressed.  
Bid Princes then and noble Peers the like delights detest.  
There is no way the wrath of jove to wrest.    

HOW THE WORTHY Britain Duke Nennius as a valiant Soldier and faithful Subject encountered with julius Caesar, was by him death-wounded: yet nevertheless he gate Caesar's sword, put him to flight, slew therewith Labianus a Tribune of the Romans, endured fight till his country men won the field, and now encourageth all good Subjects, to defend their country from the power of foreign and intruding enemies. He was slain about the year before Christ, 52.  

I May by right, some later writers blame,  
Of stories old, as rude or negligent:  
Or else I may them well unlearned name,  
Or heedless in those things about they went.  
Some time on me as well they might have spent,  
As on such tyrants, who as bloody foes,  
Unto their country wrought such deadly woes.   

As for myself I do not this recite:  
(Although I have occasion good thereto)  
But sure, me thinks it is too great despite  
That to the dead these modern writers do,  
For there are Britain's, neither one or two,  
Whose names in stories scarcely once appear:  
And yet their lives examples worthy were.   

't's worthy praise (I grant) to write the ends  
Of vicious men, and teach the like beware:  
For what hath he of virtue that commends  
Such persons lewd, as nought of virtues care?  
But for to leave out those praise worthy are,  
Is like as if a man had not the skill  
To praise the good, but discommend the ill.   

I crave no praise, although myself deserved  
As great a laud as any one of yore:  
But I would have it told how well I served  
My Prince and Country. Faith to both I bore.  
All noble hearts, hereby with courage more  
May both tall foreign force in fight withstand,  
And of their foes may have the upper hand.   

Again, to show how valiant then we were  
(You Britain's good) to move your hearts thereby  
All other nations less in fight to fear,  
And for your country rather so to die  
With valiant haughty courage as did I,  
Then live in bondage, service, slavery, thrall  
Of foreign powers, which hate your manhood all.   

Do give me leave to speak but even a while,  
And mark, and write the story I thee tell.  
By North from London more than fifty mile,  
There lies the Isle of Ely, known full well,  
Wherein my Father built a place to dwell:  
And for because he liked well the same,  
He gave the place height Ely of his name.   

He reigned forty years as stories tell,  
And fame did bear his name both wide and far.  
By justice guided he his subjects well,  
And lived in peace, without the broils of war.  
His children's noble acts in stories are,  
In vulgar tongue: but nought is said of me,  
And yet I worthy was the youngest of three.   

His eldest son and heir was after King,  
A noble Prince, and he was named Lud:  
Full politic and wise in every thing.  
And one that wished his Country always good.  
Such uses, customs, statutes he withstood.  
As seemed to bring the public weals decay,  
And them abolished, brake, repealed away.   

So he the walls of Troy the new renewed,  
Them sortified with forty Towers about:  
And at the west side of the wall he viewed  
The Towers strong gate to keep the foemen out,  
That made he prisons for the poor bankrupt,  
named Ludgate yet, for free men debtor, free  
From hurt, till with their creditors they 'gree.   

Some say the City also took the name  
Of Lud my brother: for he it reparde:  
And I must needs as true confess the same,  
For why, that time no cost on it he spared,  
He still increased and peopled every ward,  
And bade them aye Kaerlud the City call,  
Or Ludstone, now you name it London all.   

At length he died, his children under age,  
The elder named was Androgeus,  
Committing both unto my brother's charge,  
The younger of them hight Tenancius.  
The Britain's wanting aged rulers thus,  
Chose for that time Cassibellane their King  
My brother, justice meant in every thing.   

The Roman then the mighty Caesar fought  
Against the Galls, and conquered them by might:  
Which done, he stood on shores where see he mought  
The Ocean Seas, and Britain clieves full bright.  
(Quoth he) what region lies there in my sight?  
Me thinks some Island in the Seas I see,  
Not yet sub dued, nor vanquished yet by me.   

With that they told him we the Britain's were,  
A people stout, and fierce in feats of war.  
(Quoth he) the Romans never yet with fear  
Of nation rude, were daunted of so far:  
We therefore mind to prove them what they are.  
And there withal these letters he did frame,  
Brought by ambassadors which hither came.   
C. JULIUS CAESAR Consul of Rome, to Cassibellane, King of Britain, sendeth greeting.  

Sigh that the Gods have given us all the West  
As subjects to our Roman Empire hie  
By war, or as it seemed jove the best,  
Of whom we Romans came, and chiefly I:   

Therefore to you which in the Ocean dwell,  
(As yet not underneath subjection due)  
We send our letters greeting: weet ye well,  
In warlike cases thus we deal with you.   

First, that you, as the other regions, pay  
Us tribute yearly, Romans we require:  
Then, that you will with all the force you may  
Withstand our foes, as yours, with sword and fire:   

And thirdly, that by these you hostage send  
Tassure the covenants once agreed by you:  
So with your danger less, our wars may end:  
Else bid we war. Cassibellane adieu.   
Caesar.  

No sooner were this Caesar's letters seen,  
But strait the King for all his nobles sent:  
He show'd them what their ancestors had been,  
And prayed them tell in this their whole intent.  
He told them whereabout the Romans went,  
And what subjection was, how servile they  
Should be, if Caesar bore their pomp away.   

And all the Britaines even as set on fire  
(My self not least inflamed was to fight)  
Did humbly him in joyful wise desire,  
That he his letters would to Caesar write,  
And tell him plain we passed not of his spite:  
We passed as little of the Romans, we,  
And less, than they of us, if less might be.   

Wherefore the joyful King again replied,  
Through counsel wise of all the nobles had:  
By letters he the Romans hests denied,  
Which made the Britain's haughty hearts full glad:  
And eke the Roman Consul proud as mad  
To hear these letters written: thus they went,  
Which he again to mighty Caesar sent.   
CASSIBELLANE KING OF BRITAIN TO C. JULIUS Caesar Consul of Rome.  

AS thou, O Caesar, writ'st the Gods have given to thee  
The West: so I reply, they gave this I'll to me.  
Thou sayst you Romans, and thyself of Gods descend:  
And dar'st thou then, to spoil our Trojan blood pretend?  
Again, though Gods have given thee all the world as thine,  
That's parted from the world, thou gettest no land of mine.  
And sith likewise of Gods we came a Nation free:  
We owe no tribute, aid, or pledge to Rome or thee.  
Retract thy will, or wage thy war: as likes thee best,  
We are to fight, and rather than to friendship, priest.  
To save our country from the force of foreign strife,  
Each Britain here, is well content to venture life.  
We fear not of the end, or dangers thou dost tell:  
But use thy pleasure if thou mayst: thus fare thou well.   
Cassibellane.  

When Caesar had received his answer so,  
It vexed him much: he thereupon decreed  
To wage us war, and work us Britain's woe.  
Wherefore he hasted hitherward with speed.  
The Britain's eke, prepared themselves with heed  
To meet the Romans all, in warlike guise,  
With all the force, and speed they might devise.   

And here the wiser deemed it meeter much  
T'assail them first at th' entry on this land,  
Then for to give arrival here to such,  
Might with our victuals aid, ourselves withstand.  
'tis better far the enemy's t'aband  
Quite from thy borders, to a foreign soil,  
Then he at home, thee and thy country spoil.   

Wherefore we met him at his entry in,  
And pitched our camps directly in his way:  
We minded sure to lose, or else to win  
The praise, before we passed from thence away.  
So when that both the armies were in ray,  
And trumpets blast on every side was blown,  
Our minds to either each, were quickly known.   

We joined battle, fiercely both we fought,  
The Romans to enlarge their Empire's fame:  
And we with all the force and might we mought,  
To save our country, and to keep our name.  
O worthy Britain's! learn to do the same.  
We broke the rays of all the Roman host,  
And made the mighty Caesar leave his boast.   

Yet he the worthiest Captain ever was,  
Brought all in ray, and fought again a new.  
His skilful soldiers he could bring to pass  
At once, for why his trainings all they knew.  
No sooner I his noble corpse did view,  
But in I broke amongst the captains band,  
And there I fought with Caesar hand to hand.   

O God thou mightst have given a Britain grace,  
T'have slain the Roman Caesar noble then:  
Which sought the noble Britain's to deface,  
And bring in bondage valiant worthy men.  
He never should have gone to Rome again,  
To fight with Pompey, or his peers to slay,  
Or else to bring his country in decay.   

It joyed my heart, to strike on Caesar's crest.  
O Caesar that there had been none but we,  
I often made my sword to try thy breast:  
But Lady fortune did not favour me.  
I able was me thought with Caesar's three  
To try the case: I made thy heart to quake,  
When on thy crest, with mighty stroke I struck.   

The strokes thou strook'st me, hurt me nought at all:  
For why, thy strength was nothing in respect.  
But thou hadst bathed thy sword in poison all,  
Which did my wound, not deadly else, infect.  
Yet was I or I parted thence bewreckt.  
I gate thy sword from thee, for all thy fame:  
And made thee fly, for fear to eat the same.   

For when thy sword was in my target fast,  
I made thee fly, and quickly leave thy hold:  
Thou never wast in all thy life so gast,  
Nor durst again be ever half so bold.  
I made a number Romans hearts full cold.  
Fight, fight, you noble Britain's now (quoth I)  
We never all will unrevenged die.   

What Caesar though thy praise and mine be odd,  
(The ancient stories scarce remember me)  
Though Poets all of thee do make a God,  
(Such simple fools in making Gods they be)  
Yet if I had my quarrel tried with thee,  
Thou never hadst returned to Rome again,  
Nor, of thy faithful friends, been beastly slain.   

A number Britaines mightst thou there have seen  
Wounded in fight, and spoil their spiteful foes.  
Myself maimed, slew and mangled more (I ween)  
When I was hurt, than twenty more of those.  
I made the Romans stout their courage lose.  
In all the camp no Roman scarce I spied  
Durst half the combat 'gainst a Britain bide.   

At length I met a noble man, they called  
Him Labienus, one of Caesar's friends,  
A Tribune erst had many Britain's thralled,  
Was one of Caesar's Legates forth he sends:  
Well met (quoth I) I mind to make th' amends,  
For all thy friendships to our Country crew.  
And so with Caesar's sword, his friend I slew.   

What need I name you every Britain here,  
As first the King, the nobles all beside,  
Full stout and worthy wights in war that were,  
As ever erst the stately Romans tried.  
We fought so long they durst no longer bide.  
Proud Caesar he for all his brags and boast  
Flew back to ships, with half his scattered host.   

If he had been a God (as sots him named)  
He could not of us Britain's taken foil:  
The Monarch Caesar might have been ashamed,  
From such an Island with his ships recoil,  
Or else to fly and leave behind the spoil.  
But life is sweet, he thought it better fly,  
Then bide amongst us Britain's, here to die.   

I had his sword, was named Croceamors,  
With which he gave me in the head a stroke:  
The venom of the which had such a force,  
It able was to pierce the heart of oak:  
No medicines might the poison out revoke.  
Wherefore though scarce he pierced had the skin,  
In fifteen days my brains it rankled in.   

And then too soon (alas) therefore I died.  
Yet would to God he had returned again,  
So that I might but once the dastard spied  
Before he went, I had the serpent slain.  
He played the coward cutthroat all too plain.  
A beastly serpent's heart that beasts detects,  
Which, or he fight, his sword with bane infects.   

Well, than my death brought Caesar no ronowne,  
For both I gate thereby eternal fame,  
And eke his sword to strike his friends adown,  
I slew therewith his Labiene by name.  
With Prince, against my Country foes I came,  
Was wounded, yet did never faint nor yield,  
Till Caesar with his soldiers fled the field.   

Who would not venture life in such a case?  
Who would not fight, at Country's whole request?  
Who would not meeting Caesar in the place,  
Fight for life, Prince, and Country, with the best?  
The greatest courage is by facts expressed:  
Then for thy Prince, with fortitude, as I,  
And realms defence, is praise to live or die.   

Now write my life when thou hast leisure, and  
Will all thy countrymen to learn by me,  
Both for their Prince and for their native land  
As valiant, bold, and fearless for to be,  
A pattern plain of fortitude they see:  
To which directly if themselves they frame,  
They shall preserve their Country, faith, and fame.    

HOW THE LORD IRENGLAS COUSIN TO KING CASSIBELLANE, was slain by the Lord Elimine, cousin to Androgeus' Earl of London, about the year before Christ, 51.  

AMongst the rest that whilom sat aloft,  
Amongst the rest, that once had happy chance,  
Amongst the rest, that had good fortune oft,  
Amongst the rest, that could themselves advance,  
Amongst the rest, that led in wars the dance,  
And won the palm, the praise, renown, and fame,  
Leave in thy book a place to put my name.   

I will be brief and truly tell thee all  
The cause why I from grave do now appear,  
I will recite to thee my sudden fall,  
And what in life mine exercises were.  
To which since I do see thee set thine ear,  
Mark now my tale, and bear it well away,  
Mark what me brought so sudden in decay.   

Let who so stands trust to a steadfast hold,  
If steadfast hold he think that he may find,  
Presume not on thy strength, nay yet be bold  
On Fortune's gifts, nay let her guide thy mind  
In hope of hap, for she is counted blind:  
To praise her pranks occasion gives no cause.  
Do wisely, or you praise her take the pause:   

Some love to boast what fortune they have had,  
Some other blame misfortune theirs as fast:  
Some tell of fortunes there be good and bad,  
Some fools of fortune make themselves aghast.  
Some show of fortune coming, present, past,  
And say there is a fate that ruleth all:  
But sure it seems their wisdom is but small.   

No fortune is so bad but we it frame,  
There is no chance at all hath us preserved:  
There is no fate whom we have need to blame,  
There is no destiny but is deserved,  
No luck that leaves us safe or vnpreserued.  
Let us not then complain of Fortune's skill:  
For all our good descends from God's good will.   

If so a man might stay on Fortune's hold,  
Or else on Prince, as pillar of defence:  
Then might myself t'have done the same be bold,  
In every peril, purpose, or pretence.  
Cassibellane as much as any Prince  
Loved me his Cousin Irenglas by name,  
For feats in arms, for favour and for fame.   

I came (by parents) of his regal race,  
Lived happy days (if happy mortal be)  
Had (as I said) his favour, bore the grace,  
I was his loyal servant frank and free.  
But what of this at all prevailed me?  
Yet furthermore the feats of arms I knew,  
I fought in field, when mighty Caesar flew.   

Shall I for this praise Fortune ought at all?  
Did Fortune ought in this? no whit be sure.  
Or shall I blame her after for my fall  
That never could me any hurt procure?  
'Twas glory vain did sweetly me allure.  
Wherefore give ear, and then with pen disclose  
How seeming friends did prove my chiefest foes.   

Full happy were our Country men that died,  
(As noble Nennius) in the field that sought:  
When first both Britain's, and the Romans tried  
With dint of sword, if titles theirs were aught.  
They died in their defence: no pomp they sought:  
They lived to see their Country conquer still:  
They died before they felt of private ill.   

When Caesar so with shameful flight recoiled,  
And left our Britain land unconquered first:  
Which only thought our Realm and us t'have spoiled,  
We came to see (of all our field the worst)  
Our soldiers slain. O cruel Caesar cursed,  
(Quoth we) by thee did all these Britain's die,  
That durst not bide, but like a dastard fly.   

But then to see them in array to lie,  
And for to see them wounded all before,  
Not one but in his place his life did try:  
To see the Romans bloody backs that bore  
Their wounds in flight all scattered on the shore,  
What thousand tongues our joy to light could bring,  
This made our hearts revive, this pleased our King.   

With trumpets mourning tune, and wailing cries,  
And drums, and flutes, and shawms we sound adieu:  
And for our friends we watered all our eyes,  
As loath to lose the lives of such a crew.  
To th' earth we bore them all in order dew,  
According unto each man's noble name,  
And as their birth required and worthy fame.   

Of noble triumphs after was no spare,  
We Britain's erst were never half so glad:  
That so we made the Romans hence to far,  
No tongue can tell the hearty joys we had.  
We were therewith for battle bent as mad,  
Our fingers tickled still, which came from fight:  
We had before our eyes our foes foul flight.   

So fares it when the meaner give the spoil,  
And make the mighty all their force revoke:  
So fares it when great victors feel the foil,  
And men less deemed do give the conquering stroke,  
That pierceth even the hardest heart of oak.  
For where the weaker win the wage of fame,  
The victors hearts a thousand joys inflame.   

A solemn justs proclaimed was for those  
Who would to win renown their valour try,  
Where th' Earl of London's cousin did expose  
Himself to purchase praise, against whom I  
To win the prize did all my powers apply:  
But fatal was the scope I did intend,  
Th' effects bewrayed my folly in the end.   

For why, when glory vain stirs men to strife,  
When hope of praise provokes them once to ire:  
Then they at all regard no goods nor life,  
From faithful friendship rudely they retire:  
They are so set with glories gloze on fire,  
That quite they rule and reason wrest awry,  
They turn away their former friendly eye.   

O God that workest all the wonder wrought,  
(And hast the power to turn the hearts alive)  
Grant grace to those that labour so for nought  
But flitting fame, and titles haughty strive.  
Let not ambition so the earth deprive  
Of worthy wights, give them some better grace,  
That they may run for country's weal their race.   

Let them not break the bond of friendly love  
In broils of bate, but friendly faults redress:  
Let not them so their manhood seek to prove  
By private hate, to work their own distress:  
So shall they need their foes to fear the less.  
Friends worse than foreign foes themselves do make,  
That fall at odds for fond vain glories sake.   

But what need I on those alive to stay?  
They have examples good before their eyes:  
By which (if they have grace) beware they may,  
* The happiest men by others harms are wise.  
Let them not then our warning words despise,  
Do will them wisely of these things debate:  
For why, the foolish aye the warning hate.   

We spent the day in justing (as I said)  
Appointed erst among ourselves before:  
And all the feats of arms in field we played  
Aenaeas taught our ancestors of yore.  
What need I fill thine ears with talking more?  
My men and I had put those feats in ure,  
And he likewise (but nothing yet so sure)   

For as with fortune still I gave the foil,  
To him that thought the glory all to have,  
When he perceived he could not keep the coil,  
Nor yet with equal match himself to save:  
Occasion of dissension great he gave.  
In stead of jest he offered earnest play,  
In am of sport he spite did still display:   

The traitor vile, the tyrant (so he proved)  
With coward, cankered, hateful, hasty ire  
And caitiff dealing, show'd how me he loved.  
When as he could not to his hope aspire,  
To win the praise of triumph, his desire,  
He challenged me: and here began the broil:  
He thought with banding brave to keep the coil,   

And that because men's judgement favoured me.  
Report almost of all the common rout  
Ran still that I was worthy praised to be,  
And often times they gave me all a shout.  
This made my foes to stare and look about,  
And often wish them ill aloud that cried:  
* Such is the nature still of naughty pride.   

We twain (quoth he) between ourselves will try  
Alone our manhoods both, if thou consent.  
We ought not break the Prince his peace (quoth I)  
His grace would not therewith be well content.  
And sith no hurt was here, nor malice meant,  
You ought not so on choler take it ill,  
Though I to win the prize put forth my skill:   

With that quoth Elenine (for so he hight)  
That was the Earl his cousin, than my foe,  
I mean (quoth he) to try the case in fight,  
Before thou pass again my presence fro:  
And even with that he reached to me a blow.  
My friends nor I could not this wrong abide:  
We drew, and so did those on th' other side.   

But I was all the mark whereat he shot,  
The malice still he meant to none but me:  
At me he cast, and drew me for the lot  
Which should of all revenge the ransom be.  
Wherefore he set them at me frank and free  
Till me they took, so compassed round about,  
As I could not scape from among them out.   

To make it short: I singled was therefore,  
Even as the Dear to find his fatal stroke:  
I could not scape, in number they were more,  
My pageant was in presence there bespoke.  
A pillow they prepared me of oak,  
My hands they bound, along my corpse they led,  
From off my shoulders quite they struck my head.   

If ever man that served his Prince with pain,  
And well deserved of his public weal:  
If ever Knight esteemed it greatest gain,  
For Prince and Country in the wars to deal:  
Myself was such, which ventured life and heal  
At all assays, to save my native soil,  
With all my labour, travel, pain and toil.   

Yet here you see, at home I had my fall,  
Not by my fiercest foes that came in war:  
But by my friend I gate this griping thrall,  
When folly framed us both at home to jar,  
Oh that my friend of yore should range so far  
From wisdoms way, to wed himself to will,  
From reason's rule, to wrest his wits to ill.   

Well, bid the rest beware of triumphs such,  
Bid them beware for titles vain to strive:  
Bid them not trust such sullen friends too much,  
Bid them not so their honours high achieve.  
For if they will preserve their names alive,  
There is no better way to work the same  
Then to eschew of tyranny defame.    

HOW CAIUS JULIUS CAESAR, which first made this Realm tributary to the Romans, was slain in the Senate house, about the year before Christ, 42.  

ALthough by Bocas I have whilom told my mind,  
And Lydgate have likewise translated well the same:  
Yet sith my place in order here again I find,  
And that my facts deserved in Britain worthy fame:  
Let me again renew to memory my name:  
Recite my mind; which if thou grant to me,  
Thou shalt therefore receive a friendly fee.   

If ever erst the fame of ancient Roman facts  
Have come to pierce thine ears before this present time,  
I think amongst the rest, likewise my noble acts  
Have show'd themselves in sight, as Phoebus' fair in prime.  
When first the Roman state began aloft to climb,  
And wan the wealth of all the world beside,  
When first their force in warlike feats were tried.   

I Caius julius Caesar Consul had to name,  
That worthy Roman borne, renowned with noble deeds.  
What need I here recite the lineage whence I came,  
Or else my great exploits? surelyt's more than needs:  
But only this to tell, of purpose now proceeds:  
Why I a Roman Prince, no Britain, here  
Amongst these Britain Princes now appear.   

And yet because thou mayst perceive the story all  
Of all my life, and so deem better of the end:  
I will again the same to mind yet briefly call,  
To tell thee how thou mayst me praise or discommend.  
Which when thou hast, in brief, as I recite it, penned,  
Thou shalt confess that I deserved well,  
Amongst them here my tragedy to tell.   

What need I first recite my pedigree well known?  
No noble author writes that can forget the same:  
My praise I know in print through all the world is blown,  
there's no man scarce that writes, but he recites my fame.  
My worthy father Lucius Caesar had to name,  
Aurelia fair my mother also hight,  
Of Caius Cotta daughter borne by right.   

How I was trained up in youth what need I tell?  
Sith that my noble Aunt (that julia hight) me taught,  
Who could with moral discipline instruct me well,  
And saw the frame in me that nature's skill had wrought,  
By her instructions aye I wit and favour sought.  
I was accounted comely of my grace,  
I had by nature's gift a Princely face.   

Of stature high and tall, of colour fair and white,  
Of body spare and lean, yet comely made to see:  
What need I more of these impertinent recite,  
Sith Plutarch hath at large described it all to thee,  
And eke thyself that think'st thou seest and hearest me,  
Mayst well suppose the rest, and write the truth,  
Of all my noble actions from my youth.   

In journey swift I was, and prompt and quick of wit,  
My eloquence was liked of all that heard me plead,  
I had the grace to use my terms, and place them fit,  
My rolling Rhetoric stood my Clients oft in stead:  
No fine conveyance past the compass of my head.  
I won the spurs, I had the laud and praise,  
I passed them all that pleaded in those days.   

At seventeen years of age a Flamen was I chose,  
An office great in Rome of Priesthood Princely high,  
I married eke Cossutia, whereof much mischief rose,  
Because I was diuorc'st from her so speedily.  
* Divorcement breeds despite, defame is got thereby.  
For such as fancies fond by chance fulfil,  
Although they think it cannot come to ill.   

Of these the stories tell, what need I more recite,  
Or of the wars I waged Consul with the Galls?  
The worthiest writers had desire of me to write,  
They placest my life amongst the worthies and their falls.  
So Fame me thinks likewise amids the Britain's calls  
For Caesar with his sword, that bore the sway,  
And for the cause that wrought his swift decay.   

When I in France had brought the valiant Galls to bend,  
And made them subject and obeisant unto me:  
I than did think I had unto the world his end  
By West subdued the Nations which were whilom free.  
There of my famous wars I wrote an history,  
I did describe each places and sequels of my war,  
The Commentaries called of Caesar's acts that are.   

At length I did perceive there was an Island yet  
By West of France, which in the Ocean sea did lie:  
And that there was likewise no cause or time to let,  
But that I might with them the chance of fortune try.  
I sent to them for hostage of assurance, I,  
And wiled them tribute pay unto the Roman stout,  
Or else I would both put their lives and goods in doubt.   

But they a people fierce and reckless of my powers,  
Abused those which brought th' embassage that I sent:  
Now sith (quoth they) the land and region here is ours,  
We will not Caesar to thy rightlesse hests assent.  
By doom of friendly Gods this Island first we hent,  
Of Priam's blood we are, from Greece we Troyans' came,  
As Brutus brought us thence, and gave this land his name.   

This land reported was full fertile for the soil,  
The wealthy warlike sort of Britain's stout within,  
Were rather able well to give, then take the foil,  
To those which came by wars, their freedom for to win.  
Myself made first assault, with them I did begin,  
Of all the Romans first I waged with them war:  
And this I can report, they valiant people are.   

It was reported eke that in my wars in France  
Some Britain's thither came amongst the Galls to fight,  
And that for pleasure sake, to try of Mars the chance,  
And for to have in field of Roman wars the sight:  
That they no labour spared by day nor yet by night,  
In camp, in scout, for hunger, heat, or cold:  
But were in all attempts of arms both stout and bold.   

This fame inflamed me, displeasure eke I took,  
That glory hoped to get so doughty hearts to daunt:  
On which, with winds at will, I Gallia shores forsook,  
Full minded for to make the Britain's tribute grant,  
Sith at my message sent, they seemed so to taunt.  
With armour, soldiers good, and of munition store,  
I went appointed well, with fifty sails or more.   

But so the noble Britain's played the valiant men  
By policies, and force to hurt my ships and me,  
That I was forced after my return again,  
To rig my shipppes: again a wondrous thing to see:  
For in the strands and in the seas, where havens be,  
Sharp posts they pight, whereon our ships we ron:  
When many dived the deep before the land we won.   

Being hardly come to land, at length we met the host,  
And sharply fought with them, whose praises erst we hard:  
I have no cause of Britain conquest for to boast,  
Of all the Regions first and last with whom I ward.  
A people stout and strong, enduring chances hard,  
And desperate, wild and fierce, and reckless found I then,  
Not soon aghast with dint, or fright with fall of men.   

For when our armies met, no dangers they forsook,  
But so behaved themselves in every place of fight,  
As though to Martial feats they only had betook  
Themselves, and for the palm did all their dealings dight.  
Though with my Romans I waged all my warlike might,  
I was not able there, to cause them yield or flee,  
Or for a space to take a time of truce with me:   

The toils we took to enter at the first on land,  
And for to save our shattered ships and armour brought,  
To weigh them out that else had bulged themselves in sand,  
Hereon before the field with might and main we wrought,  
Beside at skirmish oft, upon the shore we fought.  
These labours tired so my men and me that tide,  
That we could not endure the battles brunt t'abide,   

They followed hard the chase, with scathe and loss we scaped,  
And shipped, we hoist sails, to France we made retire:  
Where for an army new, another road we shaped,  
If winter cold were passed, to come the following year:  
And so we did indeed, and bought our coming dear:  
For they provided had so well to fight, that I  
With all mine armies stout could find no victory.   

Again to ship my mates I bade my captains stir,  
Eke from this people fierce with speed to shift away:  
The chance of war is hard and doubtful for t'assure,  
Where th' enemies neither dint of death nor dangers fray.  
They recked not of their wealth nor loss of goods decay,  
But for their freedom fought, on Prince's case they stood,  
With joyful hearts they waged warlike life and blood:   

Almost I had no hope at all to make return,  
The people were so fierce, so stubborn, stout, and bold:  
No time of rest I wrought amongst them to sojourn,  
They could not by our power be ruled nor controlled.  
They said they would us pay no silver, brass, nor gold.  
To our indictions sent, they would not set their hand,  
But for to try the case, with all their power to stand.   

When to the coasts of Gallia again with loss we come,  
That never erst with such repulse to foes did turn the back,  
The Britain's they rejoice with triumphs all and some,  
And fame doth sound report, they make the Romans pack:  
Where we no men, no coin, nor no munition lack,  
No captains good, no art, no victual, heart to fight,  
A goodly spoil, the land a pray before our sight.   

Now mark the hap we had: while I in Gallia lay,  
The Britain's past the time in triumphs and in feasts,  
And for our second flight with sports they spend the day,  
Accounting us in their respect but coward beasts.  
Amongst their other sport of justs and pleasant jests,  
A civil discord fell between two worthy peers,  
Of courage both so good, that neither best appears:   

The one hight Irenglas, of kindred to the king,  
A worthy wight in war, and prudent, wise and sage:  
The other Elenine, whose praise no stories bring,  
But stoutness in his fight, as ruled all by rage.  
Yet both against the Romans with the king did wage  
The British war full well, and served as they ought,  
Till time at home the praise of triumphs vain they sought.   

This Elenine was stout, for he was near of kin  
Unto Androgeus which was th' Earl of London then,  
And claimed eke the palm (they say) that he did win  
In triumphs at the justs amongst the noble men.  
But as they went about to try the line again,  
They fell from words to sharp, and laid on load amain,  
Until at length in fight hight Irenglas was slain.   

The King did send for Elenine, but he was fled  
Unto the Earl his cousin, whence he would not come:  
He feared lest he should have lost his hated head.  
‛ The guilty heart conceau's before the judge do doom.  
He wist if once he went, there needed him no tomb.  
Wherefore he it refused, and th' Earl was discontent:  
Who message sharp again unto the King had sent.   

Cassibellane displeased much that subjects should  
Both slay his friend, and eke refuse to bide the law,  
And also in rebellious wise, endeavour what they could  
To cut themselves unjustly from the Prince's awe,  
Though it him grieved to see at home so foul a flaw,  
He could not yet abide the injuries were shown,  
But armed himself and his, 'gainst subjects once his own.   

When th' Earl Androgeus saw that he was far too weak,  
Against his Prince to wage rebellious wars begun,  
He sent to me in France, desiring help to wreak  
The injuries and wrong Cassibellane had done.  
He also Sceva sent, for pledge, his only son,  
And thirty youths beside, of honour great well borne▪  
I would not trust his talk, nor message sent before.   

On this I expedition made the third and last,  
(For he did warrant me my purpose to obtain)  
I shipped my men, and hide me thitherward full fast,  
Had wind at will, and came to see the shining shores again:  
And of my coming so the Earl was glad and fain.  
We joined hands and league and armies for the fight:  
And sought, and put Cassibellane the noble King to flight.   

Yet he repaired his host again, that fiercely fought,  
And oft assayed to slay or take the Earl or me:  
And when he saw at length his labour veiled nought,  
And Britanes with the Romans linked so to be,  
Great grief he had in them such treason for to see.  
His loss in doubtful war not grieved him half so sore,  
His people's base revolt he chiefly did deplore.   

To make it short: the King was fain at length to yield,  
The tribute granted was three thousand pound a year:  
We bore away the price, we won the worthy field,  
And made them friends again that bought our favour dear.  
I need no longer stay to tell the story here,  
Nor yet to give my friend the Earl of London blame,  
Sith by his means I won to Rome eternal fame.   

From France I after sent to Rome, reporting how  
Amongst the warlike Galls and Britain's I had sped:  
I made request; by friends, I might be Consul now  
On my return again: but Pompey's haughty head  
Did join himself with Peers and armies which he led,  
Alleging plain I meant the public weal t'invade:  
They would repress my pride with might and dint of blade.   

With speed I came and force, which made them all to fly  
To Greece from Rome in haste, where they prepared war:  
For in Epyrus then with soldiers they did lie.  
This Pompey proud that made the Romans with me jar,  
He at Dyrrachium stayed, to which (though it were far)  
I led my conquering host: I skirmisht often there:  
But from the fight to fly we soon contented were.   

On this he followed fast, in hope to win the field,  
To Thessaly he came, where I did stay therefore:  
Our armies met and fiercely fought, not bend to yield,  
Till fifteen hundred men were slain in fight, or more.  
But in the end they fled, we took of prisoners store,  
They durst not dare t'abide the chance of Mars to try,  
But either fell in fight or from the field did fly.   

Thence Pompey fled the field, and into Egypt came  
To Ptolemie the King as then but young of age,  
Where of his slaughter foul Septimius hath the blame,  
He was his end that did these wars against me wage.  
Even so by course we come to play upon the stage,  
Our travels have an end when we do feel the fall:  
For all our life is but a race of misery and thrall.   

But Pompey's friends and sons by might did oft assay  
When he was done to death, to take revenge on me,  
And I by dint of sword repelled their force away,  
Gate offices of rule, and governed each degree,  
At Caesar's beck and call obeisant all they be:  
Enacted laws, directed each estate,  
Emperially the first aloft I sat.   

But glory won, the way to hold and keep the same,  
To hold good fortune fast, a work of cunning skill:  
Who so with prudent art can stay that stately dame,  
Which sets us up so high upon her haughty hill,  
And constant aye can keep her love and favour still,  
He wins immortal fame, thrice blessed is the crown:  
If once misfortune kick and cast the sceptre down.   

For when in Rome I was alone Dictator chose,  
And Emperor or Captain sole to be for ay:  
My glory did procure me many secret foes,  
Because above the rest I bore the sovereign sway.  
By sundry means they sought my ruin and decay.  
For why, there could no thing in state determined be,  
Unless it liked me first, and were approved by me.   

This they envied at me that sued aloft to climb,  
As haughty Cassius, which the Praetorship did crave,  
And Brutus eke his friend which bore the chiefest crime  
Of my dispatch and death, for they did first deprave  
My life, mine acts, my reign, and sought my blood to have,  
Full secretly amongst themselves conspired, decreed  
To be attemptors of that cruel bloody deed.   

Yet I forewarned was by Capis fatal tomb  
His Epitaph my death did long before foreshow:  
Cornelius Balbus saw mine horses headless run  
Without the guide of man, forsaking food for woe.  
Spurina warned me that sooth of things did know,  
A little wren in beak with Laurel green that flew,  
Foreshowed my doleful death, as after all men knew.   

The night before my fall in slumber I did dream  
I carried was, from earth and flew the clouds above,  
And sometime hand in hand I thought I walked with jove supreme,  
My wife Calphurnia, Caesar's only love,  
Did dream she saw her crest of house to fall,  
Her husband thrust through breast a sword withal,  
Eke that same night her chamber doors themselves flew open all.   

These things did make me much that mourning to mislike,  
And jacrazed was and thought at home to stay:  
But who is he can void deaths dart when he doth strike,  
Where so great number seeks his life for to betray?  
The traitor bloody Brutus bade me not delay,  
Nor yet to frustrate there so great assembly sat,  
At last I went and there did meet untimely sat.   

To Senate as I went, behold a Roman stood,  
Presenting me a scroll of every traitors name:  
And all their whole device that sought to spill my blood,  
That presently decreed to execute the same.  
But I blind wretch supposed that for some suit he came,  
I heedless bore this scroll in my unhappy hand,  
For which I lost my life, as you shall understand.   

Spurina as I came at sacrifices was,  
near to the place where I was after slain:  
Of whose divine true ay then did little pass,  
To warn me of my death the Priest did seek in vain,  
My haughty heart grown proud these warnings all disdain.  
(Quoth I) the Ides of March be come, yet harm is none,  
(Quoth he) the Ides of March be come, yet th' are not gone.   

Assoon as I was set, the traitors all arose,  
And one approached near, as to demand some thing:  
To whom as I gave ear, at once my cruel foes  
Beset me round about, their weapons hid they bring.  
Then I too late perceived my deaths approaching sting.  
O this (quoth I) is violence: then Cassius pierced my breast:  
And Brutus thou my son (quoth I) whom erst I loved best?   

Ye Princes all, and noble men beware of pride,  
Wrack not the Commonwealth for wealthy kingdoms sake:  
Be warned by me, that see myself the world to guide,  
Beware what bloody wars for rule you undertake.  
E'er three and twenty wounds had made my heart to quake,  
How many thousands fell for Pompey's pride and mine?  
How many valiant Knights did loved life resign?   

Full many nobie men, to rule alone, I slew,  
And some themselves again for grief of heart did slay:  
For they would never yield though I did them subdue:  
Some I did force to yield, some travailed far away,  
As loath to stay and see their country's swift decay.  
The world on afric coasts, and Asia distant far,  
And Europe also knew my bloodsheds great in war.   

But sith my whole pretence was nought but glory vain,  
To have renown and rule 'mongst men above the rest,  
Without remorse in mind of many thousands slain,  
Which, for their own defence, their wars so oft addressed:  
I justly deem therefore my stony heart and breast  
Received so many wounds this sentence long hath stood  
That who so slays, he pays the price of blood for blood.    

HOW CLAUDIUS TIBERIUS NERO EMPEROR OF Rome, was poisoned by Caius Caligula, the year of Christ, 39  

WHat boots it haughty hearts depend so much  
On high estate, avails it ought think ye?  
The gold is tried when it is brought to touch:  
So trial tells what worldly triumphs be.  
When glory shines, no dangers deep we see,  
Till we at hast find true the proverb old:  
* Not all th' at shines is pure and perfect gold.   

While valiant men so burn with hot desire  
Of royal rule, and thirst so sore for seat,  
No springs of Pernasse mount can quench the fire,  
Nor Boreas' blast allay the haughty heat.  
On high renown so much their brains they beat,  
And toil so much for fading flickering fame,  
On earth for aye to leave behind a name.   

But if they would mark Fortunes double face,  
And how she turns about the tottering wheel:  
How she doth change her mind and turn her grace,  
How blind of sight she is, how light of heel:  
They would not rue the fatal falls they feel,  
They would not after blame her blindness so,  
But look before, and leap her lightness fro.   

All men that in affairs themselves employ,  
Do praise Dame Fortune first if they speed well:  
But if thereby fall after some annoy,  
They curse her then, as hateful hag of hell:  
If Fortune firm had stood, they had not fell.  
They ban her then, and yet themselves were cursed,  
Which took her bait so freely at the first.   

For while her idle imps do bathe in bliss,  
They count her gifts and pleasures all good hap:  
But if at last she frown (as custom is)  
And let them slip again beside her lap,  
They then confess her baits did boad some trap.  
As I have proved, what Fortune gives to men,  
For pleasure each, she brings displeasures ten.   

Augustus' great that good Octavius hight,  
The Emperor which in peace did rule so long,  
In whose good reign was borne the Lord of light  
named jesus Christ, in power and works so strong,  
Whom in my days the jews oppressed with wrong,  
Of which good Christ anon I have to tell:  
But first unto Augustus what befell.   

This noble Emperor did my mother wed  
Which Livia hight, a fair and noble dame:  
His daughter julia I likewise did bed,  
And put away my wife of better fame  
Agrippa great with child, the more my blame:  
I was through this and th' Empress Livias' skill,  
Adopted Emperor by Augustus will.   

When he was dead, than I Tiberius reigned  
Adopted thus, and for my noble acts,  
I was both unto war and peace well trained,  
Th' Illyrians must confess my famous facts:  
In three years space my power their pride subacts.  
On them and Germans triumphed near and far,  
Save Punic fight the greatest Roman war.   

Now (for it was my hap a victor so  
To Rome return a year before his end)  
Throughout the world the fame of me did go,  
The Romans all to favour me did bend.  
To them Augustus did my wars commend,  
Adopted me, and (as I said) for this  
The Romans heaped on me all worldly bliss.   

So when I had obtained my desire,  
Who then but Caesar? I did rule alone:  
By nature proud, presuming to aspire,  
Dissembling that which afterward was known.  
For when the father's mind to me was shown,  
Of their electing mine Imperial place,  
I seemed to stay, refusing it a space.   

And thus to prove my friends before I did,  
And eke to hear what every one would say,  
Which was the cause why some I after rid,  
The best'mongst them I made as foes away.  
By slaughter so I thought my throne to stay,  
But otherwise then I had thought it fell,  
As time doth try the fruit of things full well.   

Another grief conceived I will recite,  
Which made me with the Senate discontent:  
About that time did Pontius Pilate write  
His letters how the jews, to malice bend,  
Had put to death one Christ full innocent,  
The Son of God, of might, of power no less,  
Which rose from death, as Christians all confess.   
Thus wise he wrote:  
PONTIUS PILATE TO HIS LORD CLAUDIUS, wisheth health.  
OF late it chanced, which I have proved well,  
The jews through wrath by cruel doom have lost 
●his letter is ●● Flores hi●●oriarum; but ●●● may not ●●inke that I do 〈◊〉 it down ●●ereby to affirm that he ●●rote it. For ●●● persuaded he would ●●t write so ●●ell, and yet ●● appears by ●rosius and o●●ers, that ●●audius●●ould ●●ould have ●●de Christ to ●●ue been taken Rome for a ●●d, and that Senate and ●●●ell so at va●●●nce about ●●● same mat●●●.   
Themselves, and all their offspring that ensue.  
For when their father's promise had that God  
Would send to them from heaven his holy one,  
That might deservingly be named their King,  
And by a virgin him to th' earth to send,  
Lo now when as the Hebrews God was come,  
And they him saw restore the blind to sight,  
To cleanse the lepers, cure the palsies eke,  
To cast fiends out of men, and raise the dead,  
Command the winds, on sea with dry feet walk,  
And many marvels great beside to do,  
When all men called him the Son of God,  
The Priests in envy brought him unto me,  
And bringing many forged feigned faults  
named him a wizard, against their laws to do:  
Which I believing whipped him for the cause,  
And gave him up to use as they thought best.  
They crucified him, buried him, his tomb,  
They kept three days with soldiers stout: yet he  
The third day rose again, and came to life.  
Which when they heard, they bribed the soldiers all,  
And bade them say, his corpses was stolen away.  
The soldiers yet, when they the money had,  
Could not the truth keep silent of the fact:  
For they did witness he did rise again,  
And of the jews, that they money taken had.  
I write the truth; if any otherwise  
Do bring report, account it but vain lies.  

THe letters read, I did thereon confer,  
Booh with the Father's grave in high degree,  
And with the nobles who of Senate were  
That Christ in Rome as God might counted be,  
To which they only did not disagree,  
(Because the letters came not first to them)  
But by edict did punish Christian men.   

To thei● accusers threaten death I did,  
Although Sejanus from my party fell:  
The Senate which the Christians sought to rid,  
By me were after served in order well.  
For as Christ's Godhead they would Rome expel,  
And would not serve the God of meekness sent,  
To pot apace their haughty heads were penned.   

I banished some, and some to death I put,  
And four and twenty Father's grave I chose:  
From shoulders eke most of their heads I cut,  
And left likewise alive but twain of those.  
Sejanus I did slay, all Drusus deadly foes.  
I eke Germanicus with poison slew,  
His sons likewise, my poisons force well knew.   

The men that did jehovaes' son refuse,  
The King of jews, the Lord of life and health,  
Were governed thus: Tiberius thus did use  
The men that were the Gods in Commonwealth,  
Forsaking so their heavenly saving health.  
The Emperor I which should their lives defend,  
Sought all the means to bring their lives to end.   

Yet to religion I was nothing bend,  
Dissembled things that least I favoured still:  
I never used to speak the things I meant,  
But bare in mind the ways to work men ill.  
I seemed to some to bear them great good will,  
And those I took away as time did serve,  
Inconstant unto each, yet seldom seemed to swerver.   

To drunkenness and riot, sports and ease,  
And pleasure all I gave my study then:  
Nought more than subtle shift did me please,  
With bloodshed, crafty, undermining men.  
My Court was like a Lion's lurking den.  
The jesters named me Caldius Biberius Mero,  
In stead of this my name, Clandius Tiberius Nero.   

I will no more my life describe this time,  
For why, my facts at last deserved defame,  
Infected with so many a fulsome crime,  
As may not here repeated be for shame.  
I have no cause the Lady blind to blame,  
But mine own self, who did abuse my place,  
Which might full well have used the gifts of grace.   

Three things in fine I tell, that wrought my fall,  
First vile dissembling both with God and man:  
For bloodshed then, which havoc made of all,  
Blood cries to him that well revenge it can.  
For filthy life I much offended than:  
Wherefore alive thus poisoned with these three,  
Caligula at last did poison me.   

To Princes this I say, and worthy Peers,  
I wish them wisely weigh that hear me shall,  
And poise my first exploits with latter years,  
And well consider one thing in my fall:  
* Abuse of power abaseth Princes all.  
In throne on earth, a Prince as God doth sit,  
And as a God no justice should omit.    

HOW CAIUS CAESAR CALIGULA EMPEROR OF Rome was slain by Cherea and others, the year of Christ, 42.  

Unhappy Princes have in wealth no grace,  
To see how soon their vices bring them under,  
But run unruly, reckless of their race,  
Till at the length they make themselves a wonder,  
When from aloft their traces fall asunder,  
There is no hope to hold aright the trace:  
They cannot keep aloft th' Imperial place.   

Behold my hap, on whom the Roman rout  
With joy did gaze, when bloody slain I lay.  
Here lies (quoth they) thrust thirty times throughout,  
The monster vile, that beast Caligula,  
Which did so many guiltless Romans slay.  
The nobles now the matrons need not doubt.  
The worthy writers may their works set out.   

I was (I grant) full lewdly led by lust,  
I forced nought of virtue, faith, nor law:  
In power I put my confidence and trust,  
Regarding right nor justice strict a straw.  
My facts infarst my life with many a flaw,  
Did me to deeds of foul lust incest draw:  
Which had of God nor nature's hests the awe.   

To make myself a God I did devise,  
That jupiter to name myself did dare,  
For incests vile, which all good wights despise,  
named Bacchus eke a drunken shrine I bore.  
To call me God some flatterers did not spare.  
By message I commanded them likewise,  
My statue in the Temple to comprise.   

I would not have my slaughters here enrolled,  
And murderous mischiefs mingled with the rest,  
Without regard of sex, of young or old,  
For which the Romans did my life detest.  
To vices vile my deeds were all addressed:  
Which mine own servants loathing at the last  
With their own hands my timeless death did haste.   

My life was nought, and thus at last I died,  
My life procured both Gods and men my foes:  
Let Princes then beware of pomp and pride,  
And not themselves to vices such dispose.  
The throne will soon a Princely mind disclose,  
The tyrant's heart at once in throne is tried:  
The Princely rob no tyrant thoughts can hide.    

HOW GVIDERIUS KING of Britain, and the elder son of Cimbaline was slain in battle by a Roman, the year of Christ, 44. or as some write, 46.  

TAke, Higgins, now in hand thy pen for me,  
Let not my death and story lie forgot:  
Good cause there is I should remembered be,  
If thou the falls of Britain Princes note.  
Aloft I sat in Princely place afloat,  
I had the sword, I bore the sceptre right:  
I was accounted aye a worthy wight.   

Guiderius was my name, the son of yore  
Of noble Cimbaline, and after King:  
The Roman tribute I would pay no more,  
Me thought it was too base a servile thing.  
No Roman should me in subjection bring,  
I stoutly did deny what they did claim,  
Though many counselled me to yield the same.   

When Claudius sent this tribute for to have,  
I sent him word again, I would not pay:  
I would not grant, unjustly he did crave,  
That might in time procure my realms decay:  
He should not bear our freedom so away:  
By force and fraud proud Caesar here did reign,  
But now by might my right I would maintain.   

On this addressed himself in warlike sort,  
The noble Claudius came to try the case:  
Which had before received high report,  
Both of my wealth, my force, and noble grace.  
So thinking well he might my fame deface,  
From Rome he came to Britain with his host,  
And landed here upon my Southern coast.   

Now mark my tale, and hereby shalt thou know  
The subtle sleights of Romans in their war:  
The sly deceits of such do make a show,  
Whereby to try the people what they are.  
Note well such foes in dealing near and far,  
Amidst the field, in scout, or fight alone:  
Of all the rest example take by one.   

Amongst his men, a Captain stout he had,  
With whom in fight I made my party good:  
Hamonius men him called, who for his blade  
In single fight so often I withstood:  
At last did work a wile to shed my blood,  
He clad himself as he a Britain wear,  
Like armour, sword, and target did he bear.   

He marched with us as he a friend had been,  
And when we came to fight he show'd a face  
Of comfort and bold courage 'gainst his men:  
And when they fled, and we pursued the chase,  
Pursue (quoth he) the Romans fly apace,  
In British tongue he cried, they fly, they fly,  
Our hostages had taught him so to cry.   

As we pursued, in me he thrust his blade,  
Between my armour splints he gave the wound:  
And fast away for life to shift he made,  
Thus by deceits my life he did confound.  
Of my decay this was the fatal ground:  
Which thou must pen, that I a miror be  
For men to shun the flights of treachery.    

HOW LAELIUS HAMO THE ROMAN CAPTAIN was slain, after the slaughter of Guiderius, about the year of Christ, 46.  

A Roman Captain I in Britain armour clad,  
Disguised therefore, in field did slay their noble King,  
I ventured in their host, and I my purpose had:  
To venture so for Country's sake a worthy thing.  
But whoso weens to win by slaughter high renown,  
Hath often times the sat, to fall by slaughter down.   

Even so myself that slew, short time my joys did last,  
In flight I taken was, and hewed in pieces small,  
Which down the cleeves they did into the waters cast,  
And by my name as yet the haven and harbour call.  
Who thinks by slaughters praise, to win immortal fame  
By treason vile, deserves a shrouding sheet of shame.    

HOW CLAUDIUS TIBERIUS DRUSUS EMPEROR of Rome, was poisoned by his wife Agrippina, The year of Christ, 56.  

SAy not the people well, that fortune favours fools?  
So well they say, I think, which name her beetle blind.  
I need not tell thee here what I have learned at schools,  
But may by proof express the madness of my mind.  
My mother by her proverbs me a fool defined,  
Which often said when any foolishly had done:  
In faith you are as wise as Claudius my son.   

It pleased her not only so to name me sot,  
But also me in ire a monster oft she named,  
Unperfect all, begun by nature, but begot  
Not absolute, not well, nor fully complete framed.  
Sith thus my mother oft in anger me defamed,  
What meant the men of Rome, which so elected me,  
A fool, a monster foul, their governor to be?   

Th' Imperial blood and high descent was partly cause,  
That I (unfit therefore) attained the supreme throne:  
And yet the bloody Senate took a while the pause,  
Determining in mind t'abolish every one  
Of Caesar's ancient lineage, as their mortal fone.  
For why they could, they thought, receive no quiet rest,  
But still by our proud reign were cruelly oppressed.   

The soldiers which me found where I myself had hid,  
Lo from a place obscure, unfit for Caesar's grace,  
They brought me forth by force, there me proclaim they did,  
Because I seemed in heart much meekness to embrace,  
And could dissemble eke t'obtain th' Imperial place,  
Whereby the warriors stout were unto me inclined,  
Supposing I was meek, and of a gentle mind.   

The wily wolf that seeks to slay the silly sheep,  
Doth fain himself oft times to bear a simple eye:  
The crafty fox likewise would take of lambs the keep,  
If that he do perceive the mastiff lying by:  
The Crocodile in Nile will feign to weep and cry:  
But if the sheep, her young, or wandering man be caught:  
Wolf, Fox, and Crocodile, have even the prey they sought.   

So I could wisely feign, as though I did refuse  
To take the Empire's sway, a charge for me too great,  
But well in mind I wist, if th' army did me choose,  
The Senate could not me by force thereof defeat:  
They had no power to stay me from the haughty seat.  
Thus though I seemed at first so simple, meek and plain:  
Yet was I subtle, sly, and glad of glory vain.   

But after I was throned, I gave myself to ease,  
To wine, to women eke, to sport, and belly cheer,  
And foolish fearful was, my wife for to displease  
Who Messalina hight, whose manners homely were.  
She made not only me the cuckold's horn to bear,  
But also did allure good matrons unto vice,  
And virgins chaste to sin, or made them pay the price.   

For if that either they did seem t'abhor the fact,  
Or if that men with her adulterate would not be,  
Some famous crime was feigned or else some heinous act,  
For which not they nor theirs from slaughter could be free.  
My household servants were preferred in place by me,  
Their wealth was more than mine: the proverb went as then,  
then I need no treasure want, if I would please my men.   

On this I caused her for to be made away,  
And made a vow no more with women for to wed,  
Because my vicious wives sought either me to slay,  
Or else with whoredom vile to violate my bed.  
But blind at length with folly from my vow I fled,  
And Agrippina hight my brother's daughter brave  
Incestuously I chose, for spoused wife to have.   

So leading then my life in sloth and loath some sin,  
I gave myself to riot, drinking, cards and dice:  
And I so skilful was by practice grown therein,  
That I of dicing art did write a work of Price.  
This may full well declare if I were grave and wise.  
Grown old in all my deeds so credulous was I,  
That in each doubtful place I had some secret spy.   

So bloody was I grown, that every light offence  
Was cause enough to take away th' offender's life:  
I so forgetful was, and such my negligence,  
I would inquire for those that caused my former grief  
For Messalina fair, of late my wanton wife:  
Eke for such others dead I would inquire again,  
As I in rage before commanded to be slain.   

I fond did extol the meaner sort of men,  
Adorning their degrees with titles of estate,  
Even such as servants were and served my diet then,  
Amongst the ancient men in Senate often sat,  
For which the Romans me unto the death did hate.  
And for the cruel deeds and beastly life I lead,  
Full often times they wished that I their Prince were dead.   

My Agrippine persuaded me t'adopt her hopeful son,  
That after my decease the Empire he might have:  
Which when too soon at length I had unwisely done  
At her unjust request, as she the same did crave:  
In recompense to me she deadly poison gave,  
Whereof at last I died: this was my life and end:  
Which as a mirror here to thee I do commend.    

HOW THE EMPEROR DOMITIUS NERO LIVED wickedly and tyrannously, and in the end miserably slew himself, the year of Christ, 70.  

MVst I that lead so loose a life speak here,  
Amongst the wrecks whom Fortune's tempests tore?  
Well, than I see I must, the case is clear,  
But blame I must my only self therefore.  
I am that Nero rule in Rome that bore,  
My mother Agrippine so wrought for me,  
Her husband poisoned, I might Emperor be.   

A while I gave myself to govern well,  
As Senec grave instructed me thereto:  
But after, I to shameless dealings fell,  
At random lived in lust as Lechers do,  
To slaughters fell, of friends and kindred too,  
Not sparing those in fleshly lusts desire,  
Whom natures imps dumb beasts will not require.   

A shame it were to tell my hateful life:  
But he that wanted shame, whose face was brass,  
That spared neither men, maid, virgin, wife,  
Not mother, sister, kind, nor kin that was:  
Whose facts both care and shame did always pass:  
What should he shame to do, speak, think, or say,  
Which all his life cast bashful shame away?   

For wantonness, I passed the filthy stews:  
For gluttony, I had nowhere my peer:  
No kind of cruelty but I did use,  
No wickedness from which my life was clear,  
My pride did pass them all, both far and near.  
Against the trade of kind in shameless life,  
One man had me for bride and for bridewife.   

With golden nets in riot I would fish.  
And purple lines to draw my nets I had:  
I used eke for pleasures many a dish,  
And was with nought but lust and mischief glad.  
Though these things made the Romans hearts full sad,  
They durst not speak: for whoso did complain,  
Without respect or sentence more, was slain.   

For pleasure's sake to see the flames arise,  
I caused that Rome should then on fire be set:  
And for to feed therewith my gazing eyes,  
On high Maecenas Tower to stand I get.  
So, six days fire and seven nights waste I let,  
And sang there while, beholding it with joy,  
The Iliads sweet of Grecians burning Troy.   

Then I restrained that no man should resort  
To the ruins great, when as the fire was passed:  
Nor should therefrom the relics left transport,  
But to myself reserved them all at last.  
The Merchants causeless from their goods I cast,  
And Senators deprived of all they had,  
Some slain, the rest with life to scape were glad.   

Still out the sword to slay all sorts I drew,  
My mother could not scape amongst them free:  
My brother dear, and sisters eke I slew,  
And of my wives likewise a two or three.  
My kinsmen eke I killed of each degree,  
Rejoicing in so heinous bloodshed still,  
Nought else with Nero then but, kill, them kill.   

And for that Seneca me counsel gave  
(My tutor good in youth) to leave my vice,  
I bade him choose what death him liked to have,  
Which now should pay, for then, my stripes the price.  
In water warm to stand was his device,  
And there to bleed: a mild and gentle death:  
Even so I caused them reave his vital breath.   

So with almighty jove I 'gan to war,  
The Christians good I did torment and flay:  
Commanding all my subjects near and far,  
Their lives and goods to spoil and take away.  
Which they accomplished strait without delay:  
Both Paul and Peter Christ's disciples twain,  
Th' Apostles, both by mine edict were slain.   

But what endureth long that's violent?  
The thunder seems some time to tear the skies,  
At seas full oft the storms are vehement,  
To clouds aloft the waves and waters rise,  
Soon after th' air is clear, the water lies:  
Experience and the proverbs old do show,  
* Each storm will have his calm, each tide his flow.   

For when I went for to destroy the state,  
And all the Romans noble fame t'obscure:  
The Senate all, and people did me hate,  
And sought which way they might my death procure.  
Mine outrage they no longer could endure,  
They me proclaimed a foe to public weal,  
To save myself away by night I steal.   

The judgement was, such foes should pillered be  
By neck, in fork made fastfull sure to bide:  
And should with rods so long there beaten be,  
Until therewith the woeful caitiffs died:  
From this correction therefore fast I hide,  
From Galba then proclaimed Emperor new,  
For fear of death, by deeds deserved due.   

By night (I say) forsaken quite, I fled,  
And Sporus th' Eunuch most impure likewise,  
With others three, like filthy life that led.  
To slay myself I desperate then devise,  
Whom all the world did so for sin despise:  
And thirsting sore in fight, full fain I drank  
The waters foul, which in the ditches stank.   

At my request my friends would me not kill:  
Have I (quoth I) no foe, nor yet no friend,  
To reave me from this fear of conscience ill?  
Will no man make of Nero yet an end?  
With that my breast to point of sword I bend,  
With trembling hand, which Sporus holp to stay,  
And on the same myself assayed to slay.   

With that, of Galba's servants one drew nigh  
With feigned cheer, as though he help me would:  
Too late you come, call you this help (quoth I)?  
Is this the friendship firm and faith you hold?  
My life was filthy, vile for to behold,  
My death more vile, more filthy I depart:  
So mine own sword I ran quite through my heart.    

HOW SERGIUS GALBA THE EMPEROR OF ROME (given to slaughter, ambition, and gluttony) was slain by the soldiers, the year of Christ, 71.  

AMongst the haughty emperors down that fell,  
I Sergius Galba may be placed here:  
Where who so sees and marks my dealings well,  
To him may soon the fruits of fraud appear.  
All murders great are bought with price full dear.  
Fowl slaughters done, procure as foul a fall,  
As he deserves that works the woeful thrall.   

In Rome sometime I praetor chosen was,  
And then obtained of Spain the Province fair:  
To govern there, I brought by friends to pass,  
In hope to be the Emperor Nero's heir,  
For when the Romans did of him despair,  
So bend at home to slaughter, lust and vice,  
By wars abroad I won the praise and price.   

To get the soldiers favour I took pain,  
For in the Emprours' choice they gave the stroke:  
I therefore sought some spoils for them to gain,  
Though thereby oft the laws of arms I broke.  
But who may words or actions done revoke?  
The stain abides, where evil strikes the good,  
And vengeance wrecks the waste of guiltless blood.   

In Lusitania while that time I lay,  
I caused the people there assemble should,  
Reporting I had somewhat for to say,  
Which in effect procure them profit would:  
To which they came as many near as could,  
Full thirty thousand, thinking nought of ill:  
All which I caused the soldiers there to kill.   

I sought by death to post proud Nero hence,  
Not for his vicious life, but for his place:  
Although his vice, were made the chief pretence,  
Whom all good men accounted void of grace.  
But yet I could not stay so long a space:  
I caused in Spain the soldiers me proclaim,  
Which strait they did, and gave me Caesar's name.   

To Rome I hide, and Nero gate him thence,  
He stole away for fear of sentence past,  
A public foe proclaimed for negligence,  
For slaughters done, for fire of Rome the waist:  
Eke for because he was of me aghast  
He slew himself, before my man could come,  
Which slaughter else my servants there had done.   

When I my master thus subverted had,  
The Romans eke began mislike with me,  
They said I was ambitious, nigh so bad  
And cruel, given to pride and gluttony.  
How I was ruled all by Romans three,  
Cornelius, julius, Celius, for the State  
My schoolmasters, for which they did me hate.   

And Silvius Otho sought the Empire then,  
That vicious beast, and coward varlet vile:  
He dealt by gifts so with mine armed men,  
That factions rose in camp within a while.  
Which when I came them for to reconcile,  
To Curtius' lake, near which the army lay,  
Of Silvius friends the soldiers did me slay.   

Struck off my head, and bore it to my foe,  
Who caused it should be set upon a spear:  
So through the camp they bore it to and fro,  
Saluting it, now dead, a sort there were,  
Which late thereof, alive, did doubt and fear.  
O Galba, joyful days the Gods thee give,  
God send thee Galba well long time to live.   

This was the guerdon of my haughty pride,  
To have mine head thus wise extolled aloft:  
Thus I the gains of hasty climbing tried,  
To lose mine head, and after have it scoffed:  
A thing indeed that chanceth wonders oft.  
oft Who thinks that gain is sweet by shedding blood,  
In purple gore oft yields like gainful good.    

HOW THE VICIOUS SILVIUS OTHO EMPEROR OF Rome slew himself, the year of Christ, 71.  

LIke will to like (for so the Proverb says)  
Such are the men, as those with whom they use:  
The Goat with Goat together is always,  
The Wolf of Wolf no friendship doth refuse,  
The crafty Fox the Fox for friend doth choose:  
And every living creature loves his kind,  
As well the shape as qualities of mind.   

And yet all men that come in company,  
Are not endued with qualities alike:  
One loves soft music and sweet melody,  
Another is perhaps Melancholic,  
Another fumish is and Choleric,  
Another dull and sottish in his sense,  
And all (in some what) full of negligence.   

Now then Complexion is somewhat in case,  
Concerning chief the disposition:  
But yet the learned writers have a place,  
That manners alter our Complexion.  
So some say also of correction.  
And sure I think if that they say be true,  
I after was the worse for Nero's crew.   

His Courtisane brought me in favour first,  
Into his Court and fellowship I came:  
To me recount his villainies he dirst,  
Not fit to tell, he thought which had no shame.  
I will no more recite of his defame:  
The day was cursed to me which brought me in,  
At Nero's house, such infamy to win.   

But yet another did me more infect,  
Seleucus seen in Mathematics well:  
He of my birth a figure did erect,  
Of many haps and chances he did tell:  
Incited me 'gainst Galba to rebel,  
With warrant if I would invade the throne,  
I might aloft with Sceptre sit alone.   

To seek revenge for Nero's death likewise,  
Incited me his enemy to kill:  
Then with my Soldiers all I did devise,  
The wait ' accomplish mine endeavour still,  
Whom well I might persuade almost to any ill.  
Eke so indeed the Soldiers did him slay,  
And brought to me his head with them away.   

I caused them to set it on a spear,  
About the Camp to bear it as a show,  
To put the rest mine enemies in fear:  
So they before their punishment might know.  
Great gifts amongst the Soldiers I bestow,  
Where with they all in camp with one assent,  
To choose me for their Caesar, were content.   

But now to hold it fast a work of skill,  
I cast about and many ways did try  
With prudent forecast to prevent all ill:  
Non minor est virtus, quam quaerere, parta tueri.  
The haughty seat hath many a greedy eye.  
The election was misliked, and in short space,  
Vitellius sought to undermine my grace.   

In arms we were, and he me battle gave,  
First at Placentia, where I had the foil:  
From Bebriacke by force he next me drove,  
And did mine army vanquish quite, and spoil.  
There I not able farther to recoil,  
Despairing quite, I wist to fly no way,  
As Nero erst, with sword myself I slay.    

HOW AWL US VITELLIUS EMPEROR OF ROME, came to an infortunate end: the year of Christ, 71.  

TO tread the stair to state, who takes in hand,  
And thereon enters first, by bribes or blood:  
On slippery ground he cannot firmly stand,  
Ne fixed is he, his hold is nothing good.  
Though he knew erst, how firm on ground he stood,  
And think to fix his seat with better hold:  
He cannot scape yet scotfree uncontrolled.   

To see before his face, the fall of such  
As climb up so, and cannot yet take heed,  
But must of force th' imperial title touch,  
Wherein so many doubts of danger breed:  
A point of peevish pride, a rage indeed  
By blindness blunt, a sortish sweame he feels:  
With joys bereft, when death is hard at heels.   

Hence Fortune well took name, accounted blind,  
Because men fortunate, unfitly see:  
To pleasures sweet, and honours all inclined,  
Without respect the most addicted be,  
Regarding nought but titles of degree,  
Whereby mishaps, infortunes of their race,  
In high prospects, of view can take no place.   

This blindness is not of the eyes alone,  
But of the mind, a dimness and a mist:  
For when they shift to sit in haughty throne  
With hope to rule the sceptre as they list,  
there's no regard nor fear of had-I-wist.  
The present pleasure, glory, wealth, and joy  
Bereaves their gaze, the fear of all annoy.   

The trade of men is such, too late th' are wise,  
Too late they know which way mischances tell.  
At first the Phrygians counsel did despise,  
At last they knew the way t'have holp it well.  
When Grecians did their noble Princes quell,  
Had fired and sacked their town of worthy fame,  
Then they too late knew how t'have saved the same.   

Our Caesar saw too late his cause of fall,  
And Drusus poisoned, had as fortune ill:  
Domitius Nero hated most of all,  
Eke Galba, which his master sought to kill.  
So Silvius Otho, whose blood I did spill,  
And I Vitellius may affirm with these,  
Illud verum, Serò sapiunt Phryges'.   

We all assailed, and gate the throne by sword,  
So each we saw how they before us sped:  
The only fruit which treason hath t'afford,  
Is loss of pleasures, goods, lands, life or head.  
The gain we get, stands us small time in stead:  
The Fame we crave, becomes defame and shame,  
And rusts for aye, devouring our good name.   

Of slaughters mine what need I here descry,  
Or how the Romans reft away my life?  
When I seven months had reigned wickedly,  
Which entered in by blood and civil strife.  
But this I find too late a sequel rife,  
Who takes by sword from Prince the sceptres guide,  
By sword from him the sceptre so shall slide.    

LONDRICUS THE Pict, slain by King Marius of Britain, about the 80. year of Christ.  

FOrtune was wont in state to lift her children high,  
And give them kingdoms great, & conquests at her will,  
And place them, as they thought, above the gods well-nigh.  
She blindly leads them forth, as is her custom still,  
With pleasures all a while, she doth their fancies fill,  
And at the last doth let them fall adown again.  
She sets aloft, and pulls them down with might and main.   

When we the glory see of those that have renown,  
We are inflamed strait, the like attempts to make:  
But when we see mischance again to drive them down,  
We are not able yet example there to take.  
The storms of envy black the hautiest houses shake,  
The basest sort contend, with all their force t'aspire:  
The meaner persons eke, the lofty rooms require.   

Amongst the states of men best is the meaner sort,  
And golden mean is best in every trade of life:  
For though a mighty man do keep a stately port,  
And yet with men as great do daily live in strife,  
His pleasure is but pain, and all his joy but grief.  
When we not with our own contented can abide,  
With avarice we climb, but fall again with pride.   

So though a noble borne could get an higher seat  
By conquest, or by weal, by favour or by fight,  
And would from mighty jove his pedigree repeat,  
Yet ought he not advance himself above his height,  
He ought not make a claim to that he hath no right,  
Or trust to Fortune so (although she seem to smile)  
As though she did not turn herself within a while.   

When with my Picts I came first to the Scotish shore,  
I bore myself in hand that I could Britain win,  
Because that Scytheses of whom I came had won before  
Right many noble Realms, which they had entered in:  
Yet I no sooner could my conquest here begin,  
But strait King Marius came with all his warlike band,  
And met with me and mine in fruitful Westmoreland.   

I trusted sure that Fortune would me guide so well  
As she before had done, in battles whilom fought:  
But proof doth teach me now the certain truth to tell,  
What I by Fortune false with death so dearly bought.  
Whom she sometimes sets up, she bringeth soon to nought.  
As I that thought this land from Britain's to regain,  
In field with all my Picts were vanquished and slain.   

'tis folly or the end, for men to praise their chance,  
Or brag what luck they have, or tell their happy fate,  
Or boast how Lady Fortune doth their deeds advance:  
For unto change of chance subjecteth is their state:  
Whom first she loves, she afterward doth hate,  
She flings them headlong down, whom erst she made excel,  
She makes them bare and poor, whom she enriched well.    

HOW SEVER US THE EMPEROR of Rome and governor of Britain was slain at York, fight against the Picts, about the year after Christ, 206. after others, 213.  

THe stay of stately throne is nothing sure,  
Where great estates on bribes or bloodshed build:  
As Didius julian put for proof in ure,  
Th' Imperial seat he bought, and soon was killed.  
So Niger after him assayed the same,  
Albinus then, from Britain armed came.   

These three stood in my way to high estate,  
Which I sore thirsted for, but yet at last  
I made thereto, by bloodshed bold, a gate,  
And unresisted to the throne I passed.  
The soldiers julian slew, for insufficient pay:  
My servants eke at Antioch Niger slay.   

Then was my seat, me thought, assured to bide,  
There could no tempest tear my sails adown:  
No shower could cause my fixed foot to slide,  
Nor undercreeper take from me the Crown,  
Which had the guide of all Europa's might,  
He needed not to fear the force of fight.   

Encouraged with love of lasting fame,  
I entered with an army into th' East,  
Armenia can full well report the fame,  
Whereas my warlike glory first increased.  
Angarus I subdued by fight the noble King,  
And did his sons to Rome for hostage bring.   

Arabia foelix felt my force likewise,  
Although those wars had not so good success:  
Yet made I them with bows (good archers) rise,  
Or else they had been driven to great distress.  
Their shafts from Arras shot, made us to smart,  
They poisoned of my men by policy and art.   

To Parthia thence, against the law of arms,  
We gate, forgot the truce before was plight:  
And when occasion fit we found to work our harms,  
King Artabane we did subdue in fight.  
With fire and sword we brent, and spoiled his land,  
took captives, slew his men that did withstand.   

To Rome I came, and caused maps be drawn  
Of journeys mine, by land and seas the plaits:  
Not erst before such expedition sawn,  
Nor of those Countries seen so perfect maps.  
The world did wonder at my heaps of haps,  
Rome honoured me with triumphs when I came,  
They unto me of Parthique gave to name.   

But when can princes best assure themselves?  
What state without the storms of strife doth stand?  
What bark bears sail in tempest on the shelves?  
What bliss abides and lasts, by sea or land?  
Who takes to reign the sceptre in his hand,  
Is like to him, in stern to stir that sits,  
Commanding all the rest, their race he fits.   

For while that I abroad for glory hunt,  
My sons at home in pleasures spent the time:  
And as their father erst before was wont,  
Endevourd how aloft they both might climb.  
The elder fierce and cruel Antonine,  
The younger Geta far more mild than he,  
Could not at any time in peace agree.   

So I endeavoured to appease the strife,  
But nought at all I could therein prevail:  
This made me woe and weary of my life,  
Which erst so many Kingdoms did assail.  
I had the hap mine enemies force to quail,  
To rule the Romans well, and all the rest:  
But for to rule my sons, I was unblessed.   

Perceiving then some persons lewd there were,  
Which counseled oft my sons embracing vice,  
(As still is seen in Court enueiglers are,  
Procurers of despite, and avarice,  
That flattery hold for gain a gift of price)  
I caused be put to death those Thrasoes vile,  
And some were sent or banished to exile.   

My elder son did think my life too long,  
The younger loved the elders life as ill:  
They studied both to make their parties strong,  
Which grief my gripped heart well near did kill.  
Such are the mischiefs of the stately still.  
In Britain eke the Picts rebelling rose,  
Some Britain's there became our secret foes.   

First to be absent from the force at home,  
And partly greater glory to attain,  
My wicked children sought my death in Rome,  
But chiefly Antonine took herein pain,  
I should by guard or Physic drugs be slain,  
That by my death the Empire he might sway,  
T'obtain the same he often gave th' assay.   

Yet no man would accomplish his intent,  
For my Physicians bore me loyal hearts:  
My servants eke full true no treason meant,  
But played in each respect their faithful parts.  
They knew themselves so bound by due deserts,  
They ought not, servants, such a Lord betray,  
That gave so great rewards and gifts always.   

To Britain over seas from Rome went I,  
To quail the Picts that ruffled in that I'll:  
And tame the stout that tribute did deny,  
Which were withheld from Romans there a while,  
And to be absent from my sons so vile.  
But see what haps befall us in the end,  
Which so in throne to reign alone contend:   

For when I was to Britain come that land,  
Where people stout, untamed unuanquisht dwelled:  
Although once Caesar Fortunes favour found,  
That erst before their valiant valour felt:  
I found the people nothing priest to pelt,  
To yield, or hostage give, or tributes pay,  
Or covenants to accept, or fearfully to fray.   

They said that we did tributes sore exact,  
Whereby their Isle impoverished greatly was:  
The Picts likewise them robbed, and spoiled, and sacked,  
Whereof the Romans seemed nought to pass.  
We ought (they said) to tame the Galloglasse,  
The ranging Scythian Pict that them did spoil,  
If we would reap our tribute of their toil.   

On which at length, I did conclude a peace,  
And joined in league with them against the Pict:  
But yet the wilful people did not cease,  
My Britain's good by inroads to afflict:  
Whereon to wall them out I made edict.  
Long six score miles and twelve, the bank I made  
From sea to sea, that Picts should not invade.   

By help of this, I chaste the Picts away,  
And drove them into Albany to dwell:  
Whereon Fulgentius stout without delay  
To Scythia sailed, and there his chance did tell:  
And with an host of Picts appointed well,  
He did return with speed to Britain strand:  
(That time I lay by North to guide the land)   

At length to York with all his host he came,  
Besieging it full sharp assaults he gave:  
Where I likewise for to defend the same,  
And from our foes the castle good to save  
Came with my power, as destinies on me drove:  
But in that field it was my chance to fall,  
I took my deadly wound, there ended all.   

The Scythian eke received a deadly wound,  
Which came to conquer us, and lost his field:  
Thus fortune fares her children to confound,  
Which on her wheel their bastiles bravely beeld.  
Let noble Princes then to reason yield,  
The dainefull Lady dainty and demure,  
Dame Fortune's favour fickle and unsure.   

Some say that I returned to Rome again,  
Sore troubled with the gout, desiring death:  
And that I would have taken poison fain,  
Which me denied, to reave my vital breath.  
I took a surfeit great, which wrought my death.  
The Britain's say, at York my bones do lie,  
The Romans say at Rome in Italy.   

But this I wish, all noble wights to view  
How I by slaughter gate the throne at first,  
My soldiers noble men for Empire slew,  
This way to rise, of all I proved worst:  
For why, his hand of gods and men is cursed,  
To rise aloft that lays the ground with blood:  
The states of such unstable still have stood.    

HOW FULGENTIUS A SCYTHIAN, OR PICT, WAS slain at the siege of York, about the year of Christ, 206. or 213.  

I Am that valiant Scythian Prince the Pict,  
That vanquished oft the Britain's in this I'll:  
Against the noble Romans power I kicked,  
And kept them play in Britain both long while,  
I forced them make a wall an hundred mile,  
From sea to sea, with towers to keep me out,  
Which of us Picts did daily stand in doubt.   

Our ancient race (as I can show with skill)  
Had right by due descent to claim this land:  
Of which repeat some proof therefore I will,  
That so thou mayst our title understand.  
When all mankind felt Ioues almighty hand,  
That drenched all nations quite, for their foul sin,  
Then strait in Scythia did the world begin.   

Th' Egyptians hold forsooth that they restored  
The world again; but, how unlikely, see:  
For Scythiaes' site is high as all accord,  
From us the fountains great'st derived be.  
The ancient writers all likewise agree,  
That on Armenia mount the Ark did rest,  
Till jove again the earth with drought addressed.   

But they allege again their Zone is mild,  
And fertile, temperate, meet to foster men:  
Our Scythian hills (they say) are frosty, wild,  
Which cannot breed but ruder people then.  
To which I may well answer make again,  
As God did make the Zones hot, mild, and cold,  
So did he make like men the same to hold.   

They say we are nigh neighbours to the Pole,  
Or frozen point: more near the fire are they:  
What poisons breed with them, and Lybians sole  
In parching sands the writers wise display.  
Can nature fraine mankind more deep decay?  
Where parching heat, where serpents ugly breed,  
Is no fit clime, whence man should first proceed.   

But now I'll tell why Scythians should possess  
This noble Isle: first, Lord Neptunus gave  
The Islands to his sons, both more and less,  
Eke Albion first of all this Isle should have:  
He not with this content, the Firm did crave.  
Wherefore in France him Hercules dispatched,  
When as he would a Kingdom there have catched.   

Now as from Noah (of Scythia) by descent,  
Down unto Albion's time they held the land:  
From Scythe to Scythian as of right it went,  
And after him no Scythian Prince it found,  
When as usurpers took the reign in hand,  
Was it not reason we should undertake,  
This noble Realm our own again to make?   

The Romans this deny, but even themselves likewise  
(If they from virtue stray, as they do use,  
And do jehovaes' laws and hests despise,  
And right, and truth, and justice so refuse)  
Shall find how much their Sceptre they misuse.  
The Scythian shall their lofty seat assail,  
The Prince of Picts against them shall prevail.   

But of Proud Rome's Severus now I tell,  
When he the wall had made to keep me out,  
To Scythia hence I sailed, and stored me well  
With men, munition good, a warlike rout,  
Of youthful Picts full strong in armout stout  
A Navy good I brought, and taking land,  
Of stately York I took the siege in hand.   

The Emperor great Severus Parthique proud,  
With Romans, Galls, and Britain soldiers came:  
To make me raise the siege of York he vowed,  
And I likewise to win and raze the same.  
To win the prize we both our armies frame:  
But he was sly, his soldiers skilful trained,  
My men to fly by ambush, he constrained.   

Again to fight we fell afresh, the battle grew,  
About I brought my wings, and now they sound  
Tantara tears alarm, the flutes fight, fight anew,  
And there a while the Romans fell to ground.  
The cries and shouts of men to skies resound,  
They fall, fall, fly, the flutes; down down the drums do cry:  
Whereon the Romans sound retreat, and sane to fly.   

My soldiers all too rash had broke array,  
The Roman rearward cast about with speed,  
And both their wings enclosed us each way,  
Their main likewise to keep array gave heed.  
Which when I saw, it made my heart to bleed,  
And to Severus self I made my way,  
Where with my Picts the Parthique I did stay.   

So when the Emperor fell, a shout arose,  
The Romans blank, amazed, woeful were:  
Fulgentius fast recoiled, death wounded goes,  
And of my crew a troop to aid me there.  
I bought my British conquest all too dear.  
No conquest yet: for as I conquest sought,  
With my life blood the conquest dear was bought.   

You noble men, ye see what trust there is  
In Fortune's gifts, how mischief makes the marts,  
And how our hoped haps in wars do miss,  
When back the brave and blinded Lady starts.  
High reaching heads swim oft in seas of smarts.  
The man content, is blest, and best at ease,  
Which in mean state both God and man do please.    

HOW GETA THE YOUNGER SON OF THE Emperor Severus once Governor of Britain, was slain in his mother's arms by his brother ANTONINE, Emperor of Rome, about the year of Christ, 214.  

IF ever Prince had cause his state to rue,  
Or by his end might move men moon his chance,  
My woeful tale may show the like to you,  
Whom fortune erst, and birth did high advance.  
In Rome, in Britain, Germany, and France  
I favour had, and lived beloved always,  
I Emperor was, what need I more to say?   

In Britain while my father waged fight  
By North against the Picts, I ruled the South:  
Severus so appointed it my right,  
And Britain justice had from Getaes' mouth.  
I gave not then myself to idle sloth,  
But gave an end to causes great of strife,  
With doom so just, that men rejoiced my life.   

The Senate honoured me for virtues sake,  
Abroad the Britain's blest me for their bliss,  
The soldiers stout of me account did make.  
Let stories tell if I do feign in this:  
Lest some suspect, that I report amiss.  
For what is he, which is not counted vain,  
When for himself he speaks, though near so plain?   

In peace I prudent was, and grave of grace,  
In wars as stout, but not so fierce withal:  
Not forced with fear to turn from foes my face,  
Nor bought with bribes to let Dame justice fall,  
I not oppressed the weaker sort with thrall,  
But sought to pleasure all, both near and far:  
More prone to peace I was, then bend to war.   

What heart so hard but will for pity bleed,  
To hear a Prince which meant to each so well,  
Should have such cause to live in fear and dread  
Of sword, of bane, of force, or poison fell,  
Not daring Emperor near his brother dwell,  
Whom Romans loved, and strangers honoured still,  
But brother's treason caused all our ill.   

Height Antonine, I hate his name and facts,  
Sith he my butcher was, as may appear:  
The world detests his vile and viperous acts,  
And subtle shifts to kill his father dear:  
So void of grace, so void of honest fear,  
He durst attempt the guard to bribe and fee,  
That so by them his fire might poisoned be.   

This when our Sire Severus wist and saw  
How Antonine that bloody beast was bend,  
Against the order quite of nature's law,  
Eke how to take the Empire whole he meant;  
For both of us at York he often sent,  
Persuading us true concord for to hold,  
And of the fruits of discord oft he told.   

Yet Antonine regarded nought his hest,  
Nay yet the charge of wars he had in hand:  
T' enlarge his power for th' Empire he addressed.  
Which when Severus old did understand,  
All pleasures quite and joys he did aband,  
Pursuing war: near York he took his end  
By sword of Picts, or by some traitor friend.   

Then Antonine made spoil of all his men,  
Physicians niled before at his request  
Dispatch their Lord, to death he put them then,  
And so he served of faithful guard the rest.  
What villainy was in this viper's breast?  
Was not content with death of those he sought,  
But after brings their friends likewise to nought.   

I was foretold my life he thirsted sore,  
And that the Empire sole he sought to have,  
As we to Rome did pass I feared more,  
I from his courts and diets did me save:  
I knew my life and th' Empire he did crave,  
Wherefore in Rome my court I kept likewise  
Apart from his, that did my death devise.   

My servants were allured by sundry gifts  
By poison to procure my life's decay:  
He tried to cut me off a thousand shifts,  
What marvel, since he sought his sire to slay?  
He made his Father's friends for spite away,  
Because they would not to his will be wrought,  
To bring them unto death he daily sought.   

His sleights for me could take no sure success,  
For still his trains and treasons were descried:  
In danger I was forced to seek redress  
By like attempts, but that likewise was spied.  
* Pretended murder no man close can hide,  
But out it flies, the rumour runs a pace,  
The spot thereof all virtues else deface.   

When this was known that I likewise assayed  
His life to reave (though 'twere my life to save)  
Not long to wreck the same the butcher staid,  
He had the thing so long he sought to have,  
Cause of revenge the rumour small him gave,  
That in the even he came to spill my blood,  
As I unarmed with my mother stood.   

There she perceiving him with sword approach,  
In arms me caught to save my life and blood,  
But he deserving all the world's reproach,  
No whit in doubt to end my slaughter stood.  
She him besought (as seemed an Empress good)  
While he without remorse of her request,  
Between her arms did run me through the breast.   

These were the acts of that vile monster then  
For Empire sake, to reign alone aloft:  
Despised that was, abhorred of Gods and men,  
And cursed to hell by all good men so oft,  
You see the fall of Geta, mild, and soft,  
Whose line of life no longer fates could stretch,  
Cut off by sword of Antonine that wretch.   

Now mayst thou deem of my deserts and his,  
He to his sire of sons was most unkind:  
His mother's joys he reaved away her bliss,  
That Dame which bore to both so mild a mind:  
And let my dealings aye due favour find,  
Whose murder may give plain prospect and show  
What monster wrought his faithful friends such woe.    

HOW AURELIUS AN TONIUS BASSIANUS CARACALLA Emperor of Rome, was slain by one of his own servants, about the year of Christ, 209.  

WHo thirsts to throng unto the highest throne,  
Ne wisely winds Dame Fortunes subtle snare:  
Or who in Court would rule the roast alone,  
And sees not what he heaps himself of care,  
Let him well weigh my case, and then beware:  
Whom forth the stately seat did first allure,  
Which after did my hasty death procure.   

And, Higgins, here in purpose sith thou hast  
The hapless haven where Fortune's imps arrive,  
A mirror make likewise of me thou mayst,  
If thou my life and dealings will't discriue.  
It may perhaps much profit some alive:  
Which when themselves plain painted forth they see,  
They may presage their fatal falls in me.   

I am that Antonine, Severus son,  
That once of mighty Rome did bear the sway,  
Which in my father's life a strife begone  
With Geta, thirsting often him to slay.  
I sought to have my father made away,  
To reign alone so great desire I had,  
Nought but their deaths my wicked heart could glad.   

My father oft exhorted both to peace,  
Declared by stories old what came by strife,  
Dehorted both from civil discord cease,  
But I sought means to rid him of his life.  
I banished to Sycilia Isle my wife,  
Increased mine host, recked not my British charge,  
But how I might enjoy the Empire large.   

And first when as my father once was dead,  
I gave myself to all revenge of foes,  
The servants late which stood me not in stead,  
And some who did my treachery disclose,  
Or such to save their Prince themselves dispose,  
Or reconcile us brethren took sore pain,  
I caused them all without respect be slain.   

The captains all my friends I sought to make,  
In Britain then desiring them to choose  
Me Emperor sole, and Geta to forsake:  
Which they to do for duties sake refuse.  
Our mother eke all means with us did use,  
Persuading us to love and concord bend,  
To which in show I granted in the end.   

We both in Empire like from Britain pass,  
A truce concluded there, and hostage take:  
His relics shrined (as then the custom was)  
To Rome therewith our voyage fast we make.  
And yet the malice could not so aslake:  
For in our journeys we durst neither trust,  
But several Courts and Diets keep we must.   

Both fearing poison, force or treason wrought,  
Both craving all the Empire to enjoy,  
Both working all the ways that might be sought,  
To work to each some secret great annoy,  
Both seeking how his partner to destroy.  
The brother which to brother should be stay,  
Endeavours how to make him quite away.   

And those that bare of dignities degree,  
The officers, were diversly distracted:  
Some favoured Geta, some did favour me,  
In him no point of courtesy there lacked:  
He was of manners mild, of doom exact,  
To studies good addict, of comely grace,  
In wars and peace discharging well the place.   

But I was rough, and violent, and fierce,  
Of fiery Mars affected all to blood:  
What need I more my qualities rehearse,  
Which were so far unlike my brother's good?  
On threatenings, force, and fear, my Empire stood,  
Whereby indeed of fawning friends I had,  
For fear or gain were of my favour glad.   

Our mother long persuading us to peace,  
And both perceiving our attempts but vain,  
Did both agree our discords to surcease,  
And for to part the Empire into twain:  
Myself should hold of Europe all the main  
With th' Isles thereof, and Geta all the East,  
Of Asia all the Islands most and least.   

As thus we parley amongst the Counsel all,  
And so decree, full purposed thereto,  
The Senate, which foresaw mishaps might fall,  
Still sadly sat, durst nothing say nor do:  
But julia then the mother of us two,  
When she perceived the Senate pause for fear,  
Arose to speak, and said as you shall hear.   

" The sea and land (quoth she) my sons you get,  
" You find a way how you may them divide:  
" The Pontic flood between you both is set  
" For bounds of both it butts on either side:  
" But how will you your mother now divide?  
" How shall my hapless corpse be parted, put  
" Between you both, shall I likewise be cut?   

" If needs in twain you part this Empire must,  
" I see what discord after may betide:  
" How Empire makes men guiltless blood to thrust,  
" What noble Peers for this betrayed, have died.  
" 'Twere better both the Romans well to guide,  
" Then separate far, without so firm a stay,  
" Your severed force some treason should decay.   

" One man himself may much by wit foresee,  
" But twain may more perceive then one alone:  
" One friendly man by favour much may be,  
" But two in friendship knit, need fear no soon.  
" Two brethren then to rule the world alone  
" As brethren should, and live in faithful sort,  
" The world their love and honours will report.   

" But if divide the Empire all you will,  
" First ere you go for to enjoy your reign,  
" My woeful corpse I pray you here to kill,  
" And it divide between you both in twain,  
" That I may eke with both of you remain.  
" Do bury each apart so distant far,  
" Divided as your seats, selves, Kingdoms are.   

So when she spoken had, with tears she came,  
And sobs, beseeching both, embracing us,  
And wiled we should ourselves to friendship frame,  
Not bearing hate in heart, and envy thus:  
On which the Senate nothing durst discuss,  
But all arose, departing did lament,  
Which viewed our thirsting sore, to bloodshed bend.   

Our hatred still increased more and more,  
For when that Captains new elected were,  
Or officers in place we did restore,  
In these, our minds to all men plain appear,  
We diversly affected favour bear:  
Of right in sentence eke, of divers minds,  
As hate full oft the eyes of justice blinds.   

Our own we sought, and not the public weal,  
Yet both the public wealth alone to have:  
We nothing recked to hap the public heal,  
But to enjoy the public wealth we strove.  
To Cooks and Butlers gifts of price we gave,  
To poison each: when yet not these proceed,  
I hired some by force to do the deed.   

When this likewise had not success aright,  
Myself, to slay my brother, I addressed:  
I rushed into his chamber even or night,  
While of my force I think he feared lest:  
There with my sword I struck him through the breast.  
Eke while our mother's lap his wounds imbrue,  
Her Geta dear between her arms I slew.   

Which done, I flew the place, and called the guard,  
Cried treason, told I scarce escaped unslain,  
Commanding soldiers well to watch and ward,  
And me convey unto the camp amain,  
Where I might safe from violence remain:  
I said I should by foes be forced to die,  
If in the Court I longer time did lie.   

So they supposing all was truth I told,  
(Not weeting what was done to Geta then)  
Made speed to run with me unto the hold:  
The people hearing this, to flock began,  
inquiring why the Prince and soldiers ran:  
In tent I kneeled encamped, the gods to praise  
With promised vows, which had prolonged my days.   

The soldiers all resorted to my tent,  
Where I the Gods with honour served tho:  
On which I forth amongst them boldly went,  
Told them great dangers I had scaped fro,  
And of mine enemies fall and overthrow.  
By Fortune's gift (quoth I) our foe is slain,  
And th' Empire wholly doth to me remain.   

I promised if the soldiers me would save,  
My Empire 'stablish sure, and safety see,  
Each twenty hundred Attic groats should have,  
More corn than erst by half allowed should be,  
The temples wealth and treasures should be free  
For them to use at large, in that one day  
Severus treasure I did make away.   

The soldiers all perceiving well my mind,  
(And slaughter blazed by those in house that fled)  
I was by them the Emperor sole assigned,  
And he an enemy named that now was dead.  
All night in temple forth with vows I led,  
Next day to Senate house with th' host I gate,  
And service done, thus wise in throne I spoke:   

I Know right well (quoth I) domestic slaughters hateful seem,  
And even the name thereof makes men full ill of party's doeme:  
For why, th' unhappy slain moves milder men to mercy still,  
And noble Peers are envied when compelled their foes they kill,  
The vanquished injured seem, and victors deemed unjustly ill,  
But whosoever shall this case itself with truth perpend  
Not partially that deems, ensearching what he did pretend:  
He shall perceive and find it better far and needful more  
To wreck the wrong, then wink thereat, and after smart therefore.  
For, to the slain beside his woe, there comes a dastards name,  
The victor hath beside his health, of fortitude the fame.  
But certes how by poisons he, and all means sought my spoil,  
You may right soon by tortures try without of farther toil.  
And therefore I commanded all his servants present be,  
That you the truth may know, when their confessions plain you see:  
While I was at my mother's house, he brought with swords his train,  
Forwarn'd, so armed, by fight my foe, I have mine enemy slain.  
Sith he about a mischief went, no brother's heart that bore,  
To take revenge on such, is due: as custom tells of yore.  
The founder right of Rome, not with his brother flouting bare:  
I leave to speak what Germanic and Titus erst did dare,  
And Marcus wise and mild, his daughter's husband did not spare.  
But I, for me when poisons were and swords to slay me dressed,  
Revenged my foe, (of foe the name his works assigned him best)  
Therefore thank you the Gods, that they one Prince preserved you,  
Behold the same, him loyal love, to him be just and true:  
For even as jove above, amongst the gods doth rule alone,  
So he in earth the Empire all, allottes and gives to one.   

Thus having said aloud, with ireful mood,  
And bloody countenance cast about the place,  
Th' assembly pale and trembling, fearful stood,  
And I returned toth' Palace thence a space.  
My brother's house and fame I did deface,  
His friends, his servants all, young, old, and new,  
And th' infants eke, without respect I slew:   

The Wrestlers and the Waggeners likewise,  
musicans, players, which did please his mind:  
Of th' order of the Senators full wise,  
In whom was noble blood or wealth to find.  
Not one of Getaes' friends I left behind:  
Also my wife whom I exiled away  
To Sicily I'll, I caused them to slay.   

Lucilla eke that ancient noble Dame,  
To Marcus wise the daughter sage and grave,  
Of Commodus that sister great of fame,  
Which honour much in Rome deserved to have,  
I say, she did my deeds therein deprave,  
Because to Getaes' mother she wept sore,  
For Getaes' death: I caused her die therefore.   

Her son likewise, I caused should be slain,  
And of th' Imperial blood (to make all sure)  
I left not one alive, that might remain,  
Or unto whom they might my place procure.  
By night likewise I put like acts in ure:  
For day and night I ceased not to slay,  
Of Getaes' friends to root the rest away.   

I Vestal virgins buried eke alive,  
And made the soldiers multitudes to kill,  
Because I deemed they were in words too believe.  
Against my coach wherein I travelled still,  
The soldiers slew the men that thought no ill,  
Or made them buy their lives with all they had,  
Which were, to scape with life alone, full glad.   

This done, for fear from Rome with speed I gate:  
The town like life at home misliked me:  
For why the City did my murder's hate,  
Where soldiers held their slaughters frank and free,  
And were enriched by spoil of each degree.  
I gate therefore with all my Martial crew  
From italy land, Danubian shores to view.   

Where, unto hunting I applied myself,  
To ride abroad in couch, and give them laws:  
In few dispatched their pleas about but pelf,  
Not given to hear long pleading plaints for straws.  
I counted such but cau'lling caitive daws  
As spent their substance, time, and goods in suit,  
About such things as could not yield them fruit.   

I clad myself much like the Germans then,  
So trimmeth my hair, chose them my guard to serve:  
So framed myself to please these ruder men,  
As might them cause of me full well deserve,  
From labour none with them I seemed to swerver,  
To dig, lift, bear, to grind, mould, knead or bake  
In painful sort, and simple fare to take.   

The Germans much rejoiced my kind of life,  
My sufferance great in during labours long:  
The name of mate with us was holden rife,  
I seemed a fellow soldier them among:  
Of stature small, yet was I wondrous strong,  
So that few men which in mine armies were,  
Could with like strength such weighty burdens bear.   

When at Danubius I had placed strength,  
To Thracia thence with speed apace I went:  
There Monuments again I made at length  
To Alexander's fame: to Rome I sent  
Likewise of statues for the same intent,  
In capitol and Temples them to place,  
For honour great of Alexander's grace.   

I made me garments eke of Thracian guise,  
And Captains me to Alexander call:  
To Pergame thence in Asia great that lies  
I gate, Achilles tomb with honours all  
With eye to view, as stories witness shall:  
Whence (order set) to Antioch I fared,  
Where my receipt with honour was prepared.   

To Alexandria than I fared fast,  
For they had scoffed full oft before at me:  
My mother they had named Queen jocaste,  
Achilles' great and Alexander me.  
They smiled my folly great herein to see,  
Which though I were a dwarf of stature small,  
Durst take the name of Captains great and tall.   

Ne Getaes' murder spared oft to spread,  
As is their nature given to taunt and jest:  
Wherefore as though Religion had me lead,  
I offered sacrifice with solemn feast  
At Alexander's tomb, where most and least  
Of all the youth were present to behold  
The offerings great I brought, and gifts of gold.   

This done, I wiled the youth should all prepare  
To show themselves in field: for I would choose  
A band by Alexander's name to fare,  
As erst in Thrace and Sparta I did use.  
They came rejoicing all, to hear the news:  
Where I with soldiers come to take the view,  
Them compassed in, and all the people slew.   

The valley all did swim with streams of blood,  
So great that time a slaughter was there made:  
It stained the mighty mouths of Nilus' flood,  
And on the shores you might blood wet-shod wade:  
My piners eke were priest with showle and spade  
Tinterre the dead, a monstrous trench that fill,  
And on them dead, they reared a mighty hill.   

But then desiring glory more to get  
By Parthian name, which erst my father had,  
I sent to Artabane, without of let,  
embassage great, with gifts his mind to glad:  
And for his daughter them persuade I bade,  
Desiring him to give her me to wife,  
The cause of lasting love, and end of strife.   

By this both joined in one, we might for ay  
Of all the world the Diadem possess:  
And might to each in all attempts be stay,  
In fight our foes by firmer force suppress.  
When they my message thus did there express,  
At first he feared deceit: again I sent:  
Wherewith he was at last full well content.   

By gifts I wrought, and plight my faith withal  
For truth to him, and for his daughter's love,  
And he began me son in law to call.  
Which new report, did all the Parthians move  
Us to receive, our friendships firm t'approve,  
Rejoicing now such league at last to see,  
Whereby they might from Roman wars be free.   

And so I entered Parthia as mine own,  
The Parthians me received with triumphs great:  
When mine approach to Artabane was known,  
In plain before the City of his seat  
He came to meet me, with a number great  
Ware garlands gay, in golden vestures clad,  
With all the joy, and triumphs might be had.   

So when great multitudes assembled were,  
Their horses left behind and bows laid down,  
Amongst their cups devoid of force the fear,  
By numbers great the chief of all the town,  
Which came to see the bridemans' high renown,  
Disorderly unarmed as so they stand,  
I gave my soldiers sign, to use their hand.   

And down by sword they fell, they could not fly,  
The King scarce scaped, conveyed by horse away:  
Their solemn garments long, their flight did tie,  
A slaughter great of Parthians was that day,  
We sack their Towns, and noble men did slay.  
From thence I passed t'Azamia after this  
To hunt, and gave myself to bathe in bliss.   

Thus having run my reckless race unkind,  
And doubting both of treason and my thrall,  
I sought by curious arts of spirits to find  
Who should procure in th' end my fatal fall:  
Maternian at Rome should search for all,  
He should inquire my fate, of all wise men,  
And write hereof, what was their minds again.   

What he did write again; I wot not I,  
From Carras I to Luna's Temple went:  
And for because it near the Camp did lie,  
To sacrifice with few was mine intent:  
For why to town from thence return I meant,  
And so from thence to Camp likewise again  
I might retire, without a greater train.   

Amongst the which, one martial of my guard,  
Whose brother (not convinst, accused) I slew,  
Thus wise my caitiff corpse did watch to ward,  
(For when therefore convenient time he knew,  
While I apart me gate for natures due,  
And bade the rest aside a space depart)  
He came and stabbeth me stiffly through the heart.   

Severus servants I corrupted oft,  
Them feed to make their Lord my fire away:  
With Getaes' men the like attempts I wrought,  
To bane their Lord, and brother mine to slay.  
How I the Alexandrians did betray,  
And Parthians eke, before to you I told,  
Deserving death for those a thousand fold.   

But sith those faithful servants I did kill,  
Which would not slay their noble Lords for gold,  
I worthy was to have a guard so ill,  
As should to pierce my hateful heart be bold.  
The justice great of jova here behold:  
* Unjustly who so seeks to slay the good,  
The sword at length shall justly shed his blood.   
FINIS.   

HOW CARASSUS A HUSBANDMAN'S SON, AND AFTER King of Britain, was slain in battle by Alectus a Roman, Anno Dom. 293.  

Sigh men be borne by Nature naked all,  
With their estates why are not men content?  
Why do they deem the want of wealth a thrall?  
Why should they loathe the lot, which God hath sent?  
Adam himself I find, at first was sent,  
As one who did disdain his poor estate,  
To disobey, with God to be a mate.   

Thou mayst be made a God, (quoth satan than,)  
If on the fruit forbidden thou wilt feed:  
The senseless wight the feeble forceless man,  
Did taste thereof, supposing that with speed  
He should in haste have been a God indeed.  
He not content, hoping for higher place,  
Brought bitter bale to him and all his race.   

And I the son of Adam by descent,  
Did seek to set myself in princely seat,  
With mine estate I could not be content,  
For which I felt the force of hatreds heat.  
As at the first, my good success was great,  
So at the last, by fancies fond desires,  
I groped for grapes amidst the bramble briars:   

Let such as would by virtue them advance,  
Mark by what means I did myself address,  
To fly at first my poor allotted chance  
By honest means: let them from wickedness  
Which fain would fly, learn this by my distress,  
That he who doth from right and reason stray,  
Destruction shall destroy him with decay.   

For I by birth borne next to beggars door,  
Was staid aloft with staff of high estate:  
But whilst that I so high a pitch did sore,  
I left the means which made me rise of late,  
I vices loved, I did all virtues hate.  
For which, Carassus ran a race in vain,  
And nothing got, but death and deep disdain.   

When civil strife had Britain quite undone,  
So that her strength was now of none avail,  
The faithless Picts with ruth did overrun  
That royal Realm: and did so far prevail,  
That sorrow did on every side assail  
My native soil: and being thus dismayed,  
To Rome we sent for succour, help, and aid.   

Severus then by Bassianus sent,  
To bring this Realm unto some quiet stay,  
The Romans and the Britain's both were bend,  
To bring the barbarous Picts to their decay,  
Them to return again to Scythia.  
And at the last, by good Severus aid,  
We them destroyed, when we were most afraid.   

Whose force though twice the Romans felt too strong,  
Yet at the last we got a goodly day,  
Even by my means, who thrust into the throng  
Of th' armed Picts, I desperate there did play  
The part of him, whom fear did never fray.  
And at the last to end this mortal strife,  
I did deprive King Lodricke of his life.   

And when the Picts did see their king deprived  
Of vital life, Lord, how they fled the field!  
They made me muse, to see how fast they strived,  
With stayless steps, each one his life to shield:  
Who could not fly, he there with care was killed.  
So by my means, my country did obtain  
Her ancient state, and liberty again,   

At my return I to Severus said,  
See here how I with wounds am all bestead?  
I cannot live, I feel how life doth fade,  
Lodricke himself did carve and cut my head,  
For which my blade his lukewarm blood hath shed:  
He cut my cap, and I have got his crown,  
He lost his life, and I have found renown.   

Severus then unto his Surgeon said,  
heal him, and bring him safe and sound again,  
Thou for thy pains with pounds shalt well be paid,  
And he shall have such honour for his pain,  
As unto him for ever shall remain:  
For by the Gods which rule the skies above,  
His noble acts deserve eternal love.   

When by the skill of surgeons curious art,  
My hurts were healed, and wholesome health ensued,  
Severus then rejoicing at the heart,  
Made me a Lord, with wealth he me endued,  
Yea, he although my learning were but rude,  
Sent me to Rome, as Legate of this land,  
To make report how here our state did stand.   

My deeds at Rome, enriched me with renown,  
My talk abroad with proper filled phrase,  
Adorned my head even with a Laurel crown.  
The Emperor did much commend my ways,  
So that I was bedecked with double praise.  
I could not read, my learning was but weak,  
Yet they of Rome did muse to hear me speak.   

As learned Art doth give a goodly grace  
To some: so some by nature's gifts do get  
Eternal fame, and purchase them a place  
Above the place where learned men do sit.  
We find the fine dexterity of wit  
In them which be both wise and full of skill:  
Yet never strived to climb Parnassus' hill.   

So I with praise a time at Rome did stay,  
And tract of time returned me back again,  
The Emperor, he gave my right away  
Within a while, which made me storm amain:  
I had great cause me thought for to complain,  
Severus, he was made the king of all:  
The gifts he gave to me were very small.   

I was but made the Captain of the coast,  
From Foreign force to keep my realm in rest,  
Severus, he was crowned king in post,  
Which did so boil within my warlike breast,  
That I with grief most strangely was distressed.  
Shall he (said I) thus reap the high renown  
Which I deserve? Shall he enjoy the Crown?   

I won the wreath, and he will wear the same:  
I got the goal, and he will get the gain.  
For me in faith it were a deadly shame,  
If I in this his regal royal reign,  
Without repulse should suffer him remain.  
Which if I do, then let the dreadful dart  
Of Vulcan's wrath, torment in twain my heart.   

For why, I see what servile servitude  
Shall then ensue, if he may reign in rest:  
Shall Britain brave by Romans be subdued?  
It shall no doubt, by Romans be distressed,  
Except my might against his might be priest.  
My might as yet cannot his strength constrain,  
Yet may my might compel him to complain.   

The draining drops do make the Marble yield  
In time: the seas the cragged rocks do rend:  
And Courtly Kings by tearing time be killed.  
For time doth make the mighty Oaks to bend,  
And time doth make the little twigs ascend:  
So I in time, such power may prepare,  
As shall constrain Severus death, with care.   

But whilst I did endeavour to destroy  
Severus strength, the Picts were pricked with pride,  
For their revenge us Britain's to annoy.  
Which when I heard, in post I did provide  
A power great, than I in haste did ride,  
And kept the coast so strong with men of war,  
That no man could arrive, to make or mar.   

The Picts prevented of their wished prey,  
In weltering waves did bouse their bitter bane,  
They digged a ditch, and caught their own decay,  
On rocks their Barks, in seas themselves were slain.  
The Western winds with woe did them constrain,  
By Britain banks to make so long delay,  
I, and the Seas, brought them to their decay.   

By means whereof my credit did increase:  
Severus did esteem me as his stay,  
I from my first devices could not cease,  
For aye I hoped to have a happy day,  
To bring the Roman rule to their decay,  
With fawning face good fortune smiled so,  
I had my wish, what might I hope for more?   

For into Spain the Roman soldiers sent,  
I had at home the might him to deprive,  
Then wisely I all perils to prevent,  
Provided so that no man could arrive,  
No Pict, nor Scot, nor Roman then could strive  
With me at home, than I the Lords with speed  
Of Britain called, and thus I did proceed:   

The Roman rule us subject slaves hath made,  
You see my Lords, a Roman here doth reign,  
Whom to destroy my power shall invade,  
I do indeed this servile life disdain:  
And you yourselves do much thereof complain.  
If you with help will me assist, I swear,  
The Roman rule shall have no power here.   

Then they most glad with one consent replied,  
We will assist thee with what might we may,  
And we ourselves most willing will provide,  
No Britain borne against thee shall display  
His shield, but all at the appointed day,  
As priest to please thy hest, shall thee assist:  
Win thou the crown, and wear it at thy list.   

Which when I heard them say with one consent,  
Blame not though pride did then possess my heart  
For Princely crown: the dreadful diery dent  
Of wrackful war, who would not feel the smart  
Of griping grief? who would not feel the dart  
Of dreadful death? or who regardeth pain?  
If he a crown and kingdom may obtain?   

For his grey groats the country clown doth care,  
Restless with ruth, the Rustic gets his gain:  
The Merchant man for wealth doth send his ware  
About the world, with peril and great pain.  
And all the world for wealth doth not disdain,  
Amidst the surge of mighty mounting seas,  
To cast themselves their own delights to please.   

If to obtain such trifles they do toil,  
And never cease to bring their drifts about:  
Why should I fear the force of foreign foil?  
Why should I not assay with courage stout,  
To wreak my wrath upon the Romish rout  
Which here remain? whom to the bale to bring,  
Were me to crown my native countries King.   

One thing there is which greatly doth me grieve,  
Severus, he who did enhance my state,  
He did in my distress with life relieve  
My dying days, he never did me hate:  
Yet now with him I must be at debate.  
Even him with might I greatly must disgrace,  
Ere I can set myself in Princely place.   

Untimely death shall not destroy his days:  
For if he will return to Rome again,  
Or if he will resign his crown with praise,  
Or if he will amongst us still remain.  
If he can like of these, we will refrain  
From shedding blood: which if he doth disdain,  
I then against my will, must work his pain.   

So forth I passed with all my power priest,  
Severus did at Durham then delay,  
Whereas I meant his state to have distressed:  
But some I think my secrets did bewray,  
For he to York in haste did take his way.  
Which when I had besieged on every side,  
With care and grief of mind, Severus died.   

See here the force of cruel fretting care?  
See here how sorrow doth dismay the mind?  
For when he heard Carassus did prepare  
To reave his crown, he judging me unkind,  
With sobbing sighs of sorrow, he resigned  
Before his time his mind from manly breast:  
Behold with care how sorrow reaves man's rest.   

Thus he entombed in his untimely chest,  
It was decreed Carassus should be King,  
The three estates of all my Realm were priest,  
With one consent they all to me did bring  
The kingly crown, than thus they all did sing,  
The due deserts of this renowned wight,  
Deserves to be the Britain King by right.   

Mark by what steps I did the top obtain,  
With keeping sheep my youthful years were spent:  
Then with the whip I plied the plough a'mine,  
In Mars his fields to fight my mind was bend,  
As Legate then to Rome myself was sent,  
I dubbed was a Lord of high renown,  
And now at last I have obtained the Crown.   

The end of th' act (the Plaudite) doth prove,  
And all is well, whose ending is not ill:  
Who sits aloft had never need to move,  
For fear lest he should fall against his will.  
Though creeping he did gain the top with skill,  
Yet at the last, by turning of his toe,  
A sudden fall may work his wretched woe.   

Which fall I felt, and how? I here will show:  
When I as King did all the Realm command,  
I fearful did suspect mine overthrow:  
The place (me thought) did shake where I did stand.  
Then for my guard I did provide a band  
Of warlike wights, to guard my noble grace,  
I lastly did my noble men displace.   

From forth the fields I for my father sent,  
Him of a clown a noble man I made:  
My Brethren all even for the same intent,  
Like Courtiers there in Court with me they staid,  
And all my stock were glad and well apaied:  
For they of late which ruled the painful plough,  
Of Britain land they be the Rulers now.   

From cart to Court, a country man to call,  
With brave attire to deck a dunghill Dick,  
Is like a painted Image in a wall,  
Which doth deceive, and seemeth to be quick,  
Though workmanship most trimly doth it trick,  
Yet of a stone, a stone will still remain▪  
A clown cannot from clownish deeds refrain   

As hard it is of quarried Marble stone,  
For man to make a lively moving wight,  
As of a Lout, or else of such a one  
Who daily doth employ his whole delight  
To dig and delve, it passeth mortal might,  
To make him serve the Court a King's behest:  
Turn him to plow, the cart for him is best.   

For though thou canst by cunning art compel  
Nature a time to leave her wont place,  
She will return, in spite of heaven or hell:  
No Alchemist Dame Nature can displace,  
Except that God doth give abundant grace.  
The Cask will have a taste for evermore,  
With that where with it seasoned was before.   

Why did I then my courtless court maintain  
With Hob and john, Ralph Roister, and his mate?  
Whose greedy jaws aye gaping after gain,  
Did pole, and pill, and bred such stern debate:  
Men much unmeet to maintain mine estate.  
Why did I them so near mine elbow place?  
Because myself by birth was borne but base.   

Like will to like, the Mule doth claw her mate,  
With horned beasts the jenite cannot jest,  
Those bawling Hounds, the haughty Hart doth hate,  
With Bears the Bear in safety counts her best.  
So I amongst my like did look for rest,  
Their deeds by me were always well allowed,  
By them likewise my doings were avowed.   

But as you see the Husbandman with care  
From new sown fields the ravening rooks to drive,  
So did the Gentry of my Realm prepare,  
My country Court and me for to deprive.  
But Gentlemen were then too weak to strive  
With me, and mine, for which they did prepare  
A new found snach, which did my feet ensnare.   

In surgelesse seas of quiet rest when I  
Seven years had sailed, a perrie did arise,  
The blasts whereof abriged my liberty:  
For whilst I did with busy brain devise  
Them to destroy, which did my Court despise,  
The boisterous blasts of hatred blew a gale,  
My cables cracked, my Bark was bonged with bale.   

For they (I mean the Gentry of my land)  
Both me, and mine, theirs, and themselves had sold  
Subjects to Rome, from whence a mighty band  
They had conveyed, to make my courage cold:  
Into my Realm they could not be controlled,  
But when they were arrived, they quickly brought  
Both me and mine, and all the rest to nought.   

Alectus then the Chieftain of the rest,  
Spoiling my friends, he forced me to the field,  
The day was come, we both in fight were priest.  
His trustless train, did seem to me to yield,  
But all the fields with great ambushments filled,  
I could not flee, Alectus had the day,  
With his own sword for breath he made me bray.   

As due desert did force my ship to float,  
So vices vile me drenched in waves of woes.  
O false suspect, why didst thou make me dote?  
Fearing my fall, my friends I deemed my foes:  
Fearing the worst, the best I did depose,  
And was deposed: let other learn hereby,  
The crooked Crab will always walk awry.   

And let them know which do not loath to learn,  
That Kings in Court, be cumbered most with care.  
The Pilots charge, who sitteth at the stern,  
Doth make him watch, when other do prepare  
Themselves to sleep: so Kings distressed are  
With doubtful dread, and many other things.  
The shepherds life is better than the Kings.   By Thomas Blener Hasset.  

HOW QUEEN HELENA OF BRITAIN MARried CONSTANTIUS the Emperor, and much advanced the Christian faith through the whole world, An. Dom. 289.  

men's due deserts each Reader may recite,  
For men of men do make a goodly show,  
But women's works can never come to light,  
No mortal man their famous facts may know,  
No writer will a little time bestow,  
The worthy works of women to repeat,  
Though their renown and due deserts be great.   

For Iby birth to Coel daughter dear,  
King Lucy was my good Grandmothers son,  
My father dead, I ruled his kingdom here,  
And afterward, the World so wide I won.  
I Empress was of all under the Sun,  
I lived long, I died with perfect bliss,  
Yet writers will repeat no word of this.   

But now at last I have obtained leave,  
My spotless life to paint in perfect white:  
Though writers would all honour from me reave,  
Of all renown they would deprive me quite,  
Yet true report my deeds shall burnish bright,  
And rub the rust which did me much disgrace,  
And set my name in her deserved place.   

From Roman rule who Britain did redeem?  
Who planted first Gods word in Britain land?  
Who did so much virginity esteem?  
Who did the force of foreign foes withstand?  
Who all the world subdued without a band  
Of Martial men? who did these noble acts?  
I Helena, have done these famous facts.   

And now have here the story of my state:  
The Britain Queen inheritage me crowned,  
Even then when Romans had so great debate  
Amongst themselves for Caracallas wound,  
An Emperor, who highly was renowned,  
As then at Rome, whose death undoubtedly,  
Diminished much the Roman Empery.   

The Romans than were stored with civil strife,  
And many Realms against them did rebel,  
Their trouble turned me to a quiet life,  
My Commonweal did prosper passing well,  
When all the world agreed like devils in hell,  
Then I and mine becalmed from hatreds blast  
In happy haven harboured we at last.   

Then I a maid of tender youthful years,  
Report did say, of beauty fresh and fair,  
Refused the suit of many noble Peers,  
Which daily did unto my court repair.  
What thought there were unto my crown no heir?  
Yet I who did regard my Commons good,  
Refused to link myself with foreign blood.   

On foreign coasts, on kingdoms to encroach,  
With wrath of wrackful wars I did despise,  
And fearing aye the ruth of rude reproach,  
With carking care I daily did devise,  
How I with peace might make my kingdom rise,  
And how by law of God and man, I might  
Give Caesar his, and unto God his right.   

No God of heaven, no Christ my people knew:  
Wherefore to Rome for learned men I sent,  
King Lucy's laws decayed I did renew,  
Then preaching made my people so repent  
Their former faults, that all incontinent  
Were baptized, and so within a space,  
The faith of Christ they firmly did embrace,   

That nothing seemed currant in their sight,  
But that which holy writers would allow:  
And that they would embrace with all their might.  
To shed their blood, the same for to avow,  
They did not fear, at Verolane even now,  
Amidst the force of fiery flashing flame:  
Albon the Protomartyr proved the same.   

As careful merchant men do much rejoice,  
When from those Isles Molocchi, they have brought  
Their freighted ships, for than they have great choice  
Of Merchandise, which traffic long hath sought,  
To find the ware, which trial true hath taught  
Will get most gain, which being got they give  
And cast their care, how they thereby may live:   

So I, whom both Sir Neptune's surging Seas,  
And Aeolus' winds, even God himself above  
Did favour much, my labouring mind to please,  
Giving those things were best for my behove,  
God's word I mean, which all my men did love.  
The Pearls which Christ commanded to be bought,  
Must here be found, and no where else be sought.   

Then they and I made haste, post haste, to lead  
Our sinful lives as Scripture did allow.  
We knowing God, him loved with fear and dread,  
Devotion made us crouch, and creep, and bow  
Our hearts, our heads; we savage were but now,  
Yet by and by such was the good success,  
In fiery flames the truth we did profess.   

Then flitting Fame the truth to testify,  
Against my will, at Rome made such report,  
That Constatinus thence did hither high,  
And being come unto my Britain Court,  
With lovers looks he strived to scale the Fort  
Of my good will: but when it would not be,  
He sighing, thus addressed his talk to me:   

O Queen quoth he, thy deeds deserve great fame,  
The goodly gifts that God hath given to thee  
Be such, as I cannot thee greatly blame,  
Though thou without desert disdainest me,  
Who for thy sake doth loath all cruelty.  
But for thy love, with Mars his cruel knife,  
I could command thy Realm, and reave thy life.   

But (out alas) whilst breath doth lend me life,  
My heart shall hate to thrall thy happy state,  
What though thou dost refuse to be my wife,  
Thy hatred tho, shall never cause me hate:  
But whilst I live, I will thee love, let Fate  
And Fortune fell power on me all their spite,  
To die for thee shall greatly me delight.   

Then I replied, O Duke, without desert  
Thou dost me love, a little islands Queen,  
I know thou to the Emperor heir art,  
Thy valiant acts I divers ways have seen,  
I like thy deeds, most noble which have been,  
And thee I love: yet private pleasures lust  
May never make me throw my Realm to dust.   

If thou (quoth he) will't deign my Queen to be,  
Thy Britain's shall to Rome no tribute yield,  
You if you please, to Rome may go with me,  
Your mighty mate the world so wide may wield,  
Or if you please, I here with you will belde  
My biding place, and in this little land,  
I will remain yours, here at your command.   

His comely grace, his friendly promise plight,  
His famous acts, his Noble royal race,  
Some other things which here I could recite,  
The Romans heart within my breast did place.  
And when my wit had weighed well the case,  
Then for the chief of all my Realm I sent,  
And thus I spoke to know the whole intent.   

My loving Lords, and you my subjects, see  
This Roman heir, whom I indeed do love,  
He will restore your ancient liberty,  
If I will bend my hest to his behove:  
Which benefits they chiefly do me move,  
To love at last, a man by whom you may,  
Receive a Shield to keep you from decay.   

Perhaps you think I love, because I see  
His comely shape, and seemly sanguine face,  
You be deceived, no outward bravery,  
No parsonage, no gallant courtly grace.  
What though he be by birth of royal race?  
I reck it not, but this I do regard,  
My Commonweal by him may be preserved.   

For if he will from tribute set you free,  
And end the work which I have well begun,  
That Christ's Gospel preached still may be,  
God may by him send unto me a son,  
To you a King: what wealth then have you won?  
What great renown? what honour will ensue?  
Speak you your minds, these things me think, be true.   

O Queen, quoth they, the Lord preserve thy grace:  
Do thou the thing that seems to thee the best,  
We do allow the match in every case:  
If by that means we may have quiet rest,  
With what great good shall this our Realm be blest?  
Do thou therefore O noble Queen, we pray,  
The thing which best may keep us from decay.   

The Roman Duke he nothing would deny,  
But granted more than I could ask or crave,  
So that there was proclaimed by and by,  
A famous feast, a banquet passing brave.  
There to the Duke the Britain crown I gave,  
With sacred spousal rights, as man and wife  
We wedded, lived in love, for term of life.   

And whilst we meant to rule this little I'll,  
A greater good unlooked for befell,  
Death did destroy his Sire with hateful hand:  
For which we both at Rome must now go dwell,  
And so we did: things prospered passing well,  
My Fear was made the Emperor, Lord and king  
Of all: and I the Queen of every thing.   

His mighty Mace did rule the Monarchy,  
My wit did rule (some writers say) his Mace,  
And to increase with joy our merry glie,  
I brought him forth a babe of Royal race,  
The boy he had an amiable face.  
O Rome thou mayst rejoice, for this was he,  
Which did at Rome erect Divinity.   

Whilst thus in bliss I did at Rome remain,  
A Britain still my mind her care did cast,  
For which I caused my husband to ordain,  
That evermore those ancient Laws should last,  
Which heretofore amongst them there I passed,  
And that to Rome no Britain borne, for aye,  
Should tax, or toll, or tenth, or tribute pay.   

Though there at Rome an empress life I led,  
And had at hand what I could wish or crave,  
Yet still me thought I was not well bestead,  
Because I was so far from Britain brave.  
Which when my loving Lord did once perceive,  
He set a stay in all the Empery,  
To Britain than he did return with me.   

We reigned of years thrice seven with good success,  
Then Dolour and debility did drive  
My loving Lord with fainting feebleness,  
For vital life with braying breath to strive:  
He felt, how death of life would him deprive,  
He called his Lords, his child, and me his wife,  
And thus he spoke, even as he left his life:   

The haughty Pines of lofty Libanus,  
From earth, to earth, in tract of time return:  
So I whose spreading praise were marvelous,  
Must now return my flesh to filthy slime,  
On Fortune's wheel I may no longer climb.  
Therefore my Lords, although my glass be run,  
Yet take remorse on Constantine my son.   

My Monarch, Court, my Kingdoms all,  
(O stately Rome) farewell to them, and thee,  
Farewell my Lords, which see my final fall,  
Farewell my child, my wife, more dear to me  
Then all the world, we must depart I see:  
And must we needs depart? O Fortune fie,  
We must depart, adieu, farewell, I die.   

Wherewith he sighed and senseless did remain,  
Then I his death as women do, did wail:  
But when I viewed, that weeping was but vain,  
I was content to bear that bitter bale,  
As one who found no means for her avail.  
His corpse at York in Princely Tomb I laid,  
When funeral sacred solemn rites were paid.   

And when report his death about had blown,  
Maxentius then the triple crown to wear,  
Did challenge all the Empire as his own,  
And for a time that mighty Mace did bear:  
Which when my son, my Constantine did hear,  
The youthful Lad, endeavoured by and by,  
To claim his right by Mars his cruelty.   

I than his tender youthful years to guide,  
Went with my son to see his good success,  
He being Campt by fruitful Tiber's side,  
To spoil his foe he did himself address,  
He knew that God did give all happiness.  
Therefore to God, even than the youth did pray,  
With mighty hand to keep him from decay.   

Behold how God doth godly men defend,  
And mark how he doth beat Usurpers down.  
Maxentius now he all his force doth bend,  
For to defend his Diadem and Crown.  
But froward Fate upon the Prince did frown:  
For why his men were scattered every where,  
In Tiber he did drown himself for fear.   

To Rome then we and all our host did high,  
The Romans they with joy did us receive,  
To Constantine they gave the Empery,  
But he of them most earnestly did crave,  
That I the rule of all the world might have:  
It is (quoth he) my mother's right to reign,  
Till dreadful death hath shred her twist in twain.   

I grant my son, the Monarchy is mine,  
For at his death thy father gave it me  
For term of life: but let it now be thine,  
I aged must go pay the earth her fee,  
I am content to live with less degree.  
O loving son, give ear unto my hest,  
I will not rule, that charge for thee is best.   

And when he might not rule his mother's mind,  
Against his will he willing did assent,  
That all should be as I had then assigned,  
To rule the world, he grieved was content.  
And whilst that there my happy days I spent,  
Rejoicing much to see my sons success,  
I died and had a heavenly happiness.   

Thrice happy I who ran this royal race,  
And in the end my wished Goal did get:  
For by my means all people did embrace  
The faith of Christ, the orders I did set  
They were obeyed with joy, which made me ier.  
Even in this bliss a better bliss befell,  
I died, and now my soul in heaven doth dwell.   

So now you see the happy hap I had:  
Learn then thereby to do as I have done,  
To praise God's name let every Prince be glad:  
To persecute the truth let all men shun,  
By virtuous ways great honour may be won.  
But he who doth to vices vile incline,  
May be compared unto a filthy swine.   

Who doth not love the plain nor pleasant way,  
He cannot fear to sleep amidst the green,  
But in the mire he doth delight to lay:  
So Princes such as vile and vidious been,  
Do tumble aye amidsta sink of sin,  
Whose names on earth, whose souls in hell remain  
In infamy, the other pinched with pain.   

Let them that seek for everlasting fame,  
Tread in the steps that I before have trod,  
And he who would avoid reproachful shame,  
And flee the smart of Pluto's ruthful rod,  
Let him not cease to learn the law of God,  
Which only law man's stumbling steps doth guide:  
Who walks therein, his feet can never slide.    

HOW VORTIGER DESTROYED THE YOUNG KING CONSTANTINE, and how he obtained the Crown: and how after many miseries, he was miserably burnt in his Castle, by the brethren of Constantine, Anno Dom. 446.  

BY quiet peace of janus jollity,  
Their happy havens some with forewinds have,  
By wrackful war of Mars his cruelty,  
With much ado some get the Goal they crave,  
But subtle sleights and fetches bolstered brave,  
My hapless hand did hit with leveled line,  
The aimed mark, the more mishap was mine.   

By gifts of grace some men have happy hap,  
By blessed birth to Kingdoms borne some be:  
Succession sets some men in Fortune's lap,  
By wisdom, wit, and prudent policy:  
Some clime aloft by trustless treachery:  
And courage doth a multitude advance,  
Drifts finely filled they did my state enhance.   

I Vortiger by birth was borne a Lord,  
King Constantine his Cousin did me call,  
I cried amain, and clapped his crown aboard,  
And for a time till Fortune forced my fall,  
With restless bliss I sat in stately stall:  
But men of war of much more might than I,  
For my desert my careful corpse did fry.   

As furions' force of fiery flashing fame,  
With Cinders brought my body to decay,  
So smuldering smokes of everlasting shame  
Choked my renown, and wiped my fflame away.  
What may I more of my misfortune say?  
I sigh to see, I silent ccase to tell  
What me destroyed, and drowned my soul in hell.   

Here to repeat the parts that I have played,  
Were to unrippe a truss of trumpery,  
For me to show how I aloft was stayed,  
Were to erect a school of Treachery:  
Silence is best, let no man learn by me  
Nor by my means, how they by wicked ways,  
From low estate, aloft themselves may raise.   

As good men can by wicked works beware,  
So wicked men by wicked works be wise,  
If ill men read my deeds which wicked were,  
They by my means will compass their surmise:  
For wicked workers daily do devise,  
To make examples vile and vicious,  
To stand in stead, to serve their lawless lust.   

The Serpent thence his venom vile doth draw,  
From whence the Bee her honey sweet doth get,  
Lewd livers learn to break the written law,  
By that, whereby good men do learn much wit.  
For wicked men each fetch is thought most fit,  
To serve their turn: therefore I count it best,  
To leave my faults and follies unconfest.   

Give leave therefore good Memory, I may  
Not here repeat my tedious Tragedy,  
Inquirie, let me now depart away.  
My Commonweal subverted was by me,  
I lewdly lived, and died in misery,  
And for my faults I felt disdainful smart,  
Let this suffice, and let me now depart.   

With that he seemed as one that would away,  
But Memory (stay stay thy steps, quoth she)  
Let wicked men procure their own decay,  
We reck it not, if warned once they be.  
Let that suffice, and let thy misery  
Make just report, how vain, and vile a thing  
It is, to live as a usurping King.   

Sith needs I must repent faults forerun  
Repeat, and tell the fall and foil I felt,  
Patience perforce, to speak shame bids me shun,  
To think thereof doth make my heart to melt.  
But sith I needs must show how here I dealt,  
I am content to tell the truth of all,  
Let wise men learn to stand, which read my fall.   

For first I caused the young King Constantine,  
Of faithless Scots and Picts to make his guard,  
They by my means did kill their King in fine,  
For which, with speed I sent them all to ward,,  
And hanged them all, their cause was never heard:  
So I who first did cause them kill their King,  
To stop their mouths, the mall to death did bring.   

Where Rancour rules, where hatreds heat is hot,  
The hurtless men with trouble be turmoiled:  
Where malice may send forth her Cannon shot,  
There might is right, there reasons rules are foiled.  
For ruthful Rancour evermore hath boiled  
With griping grief: her smuldring smokes of spite  
Would gladly choke all justice, law, and right.   

So might, not right, did thrust me to the Throne,  
I sixteen years did wear the royal Crown,  
In all which time with grief I aye did groan,  
As one who felt the fall from high renown.  
My Noble men devised to thrust me down  
In all this time, and many did protest,  
I laid the King in his untimely chest.   

At last, my foes my friends were made, and I  
Had quiet peace, and lived a happy King:  
Yea, God who rules the haughty heaven a high,  
Enriched my Realm with foison of each thing,  
Abundant store did make my people sing.  
As they of yore were priest with penury,  
So now they hate their great fertility.   

My people had of corn and oil such store,  
That country men of tillage left the toil,  
The rich man fed no better than the poor,  
For all did reap the fatness of the soil,  
No man for meat nor money than did toil,  
But all rejoice with joyful jubilee,  
And all were soused with sinful gluttony.   

As clouds dissolved fair Phoebus doth deface,  
So plague my plenty dimmed with dark disease:  
For whilst my Realm in riot ran her race,  
They played, not prayed, and did their God displease.  
For which they drowned in sorrows surging seas,  
Like rotten sheep by thousands died so thick,  
The dead could not be buried by the quick.   

When thus the plague my people did oppress,  
That few were left alive within my land,  
The barbarous Picts, with speed themselves addressed,  
Knowing their time, they raised a mighty band,  
They knew right soon, how here my state did stand.  
And to revenge the wrong that erst I wrought,  
They meant to bring both me and mine to nought.   

See how abuse breeds black and bitter bale,  
Misuse doth make of plenty, loathsome lack,  
Amidst his bliss with woe it makes man wale,  
Only abuse doth work man's wretched wrack:  
Amidst my joys, from joy it beat me back.  
For I and mine misused our present bless,  
Which brought both me and mine to wretchedness.   

We first misused our present pleasant plenty,  
For which we whipped in thrall with scourges three,  
Had Pestilence, which made my kingdom empty,  
It did destroy my men of each degree,  
Then fainting Famine played her Tragedy,  
Bellona then that beastly bloody Queen,  
Did blow her Trump to dash my courage clean.   

When sickness had consumed my subjects quite,  
The Picts with pride did haste to spoil my land,  
I had no men, nor means with them to fight,  
For which I sent and did obtain a band  
Of Saxons, such as did the Picts withstand.  
Whose help that I when need required might have,  
I gave them Kent, a country passing brave.   

These Saxons were a crew of warlike wights,  
They lived by spoil, and had no biding place,  
They were of truth a troop of Martial knights,  
Which served for pay where Mars extolled his Mace.  
Saxons indeed they were of royal race,  
They Angli height, a stock of worthy fame,  
Of them this realm of England took her name.   

These Angli brought the Britaines to the bay,  
We Welshmen called, to Wales they did us drive,  
They brought six sorts of Saxons to decay,  
And got the Goal for which they long did strive.  
Of other stocks they left not one alive,  
They all this Realm did plant with Angli then,  
And termed themselves of Angli, Englishmen.   

But how they brought this enterprise about,  
Mark well the sequel which I shall recite:  
Hengestus he the Chieftain of the rout,  
A subtle Sir, an undermining wight,  
To seed my veins he took a great delight.  
His crafty head did deem it the best way,  
With pleasant baits to make my crown his prey.   

He me his King invited to a feast,  
A feast in faith, which forced my final fall:  
Where Cupid's curse constrained me like a beast,  
From Pallas Prince to give the golden Ball.  
For Venus vaunts to Helen threw my thrall,  
Whose heavenly hue, whose beauty fresh and fair  
Was burnished bright like Phoebus in the air.   

I being set at Bacchus banqueting,  
His daughter decked with Nature's tapistry,  
And trimly tricked with every other thing,  
Which might delight a lovers fantasy:  
Why should man's mind to love thus subject be?  
I had a wife, a passing princely piece,  
Which far did pass that gallant Girl of Greece.   

Yet from my wife (the worthiest Queen alive,)  
My fancies fell, I loathed her lovely bed:  
How I Hengestus daughter might achieve  
Was all my care, I did this Damsel wed,  
My wife divorced, I had her in the stead.  
Her lovely looks, her pretty pleasant cheer,  
Made me esteem her only love most dear.   

I wore the crown, her will did rule the rest,  
And her demand I never did deny:  
What she allowed I did esteem that best.  
Which when her Father Hengest did espy,  
He had the prey for which he long did prie.  
He made his hay whilst weather fair was,  
And by her means he brought it thus to pass:   

That Britain's we with toil should till the ground,  
They Saxons would defend our wealth with war:  
Which granted once, they did inhabit round  
About my realm, and might both make and mar.  
New Saxons in my realm arrived were,  
By means whereof my Britain's did suspect  
The Saxons sleights, and did their deeds detect.   

Then they good men to me their king complained,  
These men, quoth they, from us our realm will win,  
Except they from our frontiers be refraind.  
Which when they told, my wife she was within,  
O husband dear, they be (said she) my kin,  
Cease of thy force thy faithful dreads to fear,  
They mean no hurt, by jove the just I swear.   

So I esteemed not my subjects health,  
That I might still my Ladies love enjoy,  
They viewed me careless of my common wealth,  
To save themselves they meant me to annoy,  
Mine eldest son a proper pretty boy,  
They made their king, and me for my desert,  
They did deprive: with pain which pinched my heart.   

Then Vortiger my son and king pursued  
The Saxons sore, and did amaze them much,  
For which my wife his mother law endued  
With devilish spite, against the youth did grudge,  
She him destroyed, her good success was such:  
When he seven years had reigned with great renown,  
With poison she deprived him of his crown.   

I to obtain the seat from whence I fell,  
With sacred oath I solemnly did swear,  
To end the work, which was begun so well,  
And to subdue the Saxons every where.  
The Britaines to my Kingly crown did rear  
Me quickly then, I at the first, by might  
Defaced my foes in every fray and fight.   

Then loathsome Luck did turn her whirling wheel,  
With treason trust entrapped did me betray,  
Hateful Mishap she had me by the heel,  
And clapped me close in dungeon of decay,  
To Hengest now I must a ransom pay.  
And if I loved my life and liberty,  
I needs must grant all he doth ask of me.   

For changed chance of Mars his wars, hath made  
Me of a King a captains prisoner,  
To whom there must now four Shires be paid,  
Norfolk, Southfolk, Southsex and Kent they were,  
Me to release from out my cave of care.  
Which being done, I led my life in doubt,  
And fled for fear to Wales with all my rout.   

Whereas I found a place that pleased me much,  
The situation seemed so passing strong,  
The world me thought might not annoy it much,  
A castle there I built: it were too long  
here to repeat, silence shall do no wrong  
To Marlain, he who wonders there hath wrought,  
If ancient writ to us the truth hath taught.   

When I had built my Princely bower there,  
In bloody fields I meant no more to strive:  
But true report did dash my present cheer.  
In Totnesse haven two brethren did arrive,  
Which quickly would from that my fort me drive,  
The brethren both of Constantine the King,  
Peccavi they did mean to make me sing.   

From worse to worse, seldom is better seen,  
Our present joys hereafter thralls do threat,  
And he who now doth flourish fresh and green,  
Must fade and fall as Hiems frosts do fret  
Dame Flora's fields, or as the rain with wet  
In dropping days the pleasant plains doth drown,  
So ruthful men bereave us of renown.   

Men may therefore like Mermaid's ever mourn,  
The shining Sun who do so much delight,  
That aye they wail like Furies quite forlorn.  
When Sol doth shine, when Titan's beams be bright,  
They fear the storms that may hereafter light,  
They weep because they must the Sun forego,  
When storms do fall, they wail their present wo.   

So mortal man with malice all bestead,  
When good success doth sound a blessed blast,  
With brinish tears than may they eat their bread.  
For happy days from man doth flee as fast  
As powders force from piece doth pellet cast,  
And troubles tedious time with paselesse stay,  
Once won (alas) will never walk away.   

How I in maze of trouble here did toil,  
judge you which see me travise in the same,  
And how I was enforced to final foil,  
Not now, for now although it doth me shame,  
I will declare, how I was fried with flame.  
For Ambrose he and Uter Pendragon,  
My castle burnt, me and my men each one.   

Then Ambrose with his brother's crown was crowned,  
Which I from him had reaved against all right.  
So now you see upon what slippery ground  
They stand, which do extol themselves by might,  
Their wandering feet do walk as in the night,  
Their stumbling steps their guilty minds do fear,  
They daily see the block of bale appear.   

With scalding sighs they do themselves consume,  
For fear to fall doth yield none other fruit,  
They rage with wrath, they daily fret and fume,  
Ruthful revenge them always hath in suit,  
And right in time makes might both mum and mute:  
For that which might by secret means hath wrought,  
By tract of time to open show is brought.   

usurpers then do reap their right reward,  
The foil once felt, they feel how vile and vain  
It is, to be to high degrees preferred  
By lawless means they find what pinching pain,  
Amidst the minds of such men do remain,  
They always thronged with cruel thretting thrall,  
Do feed upon none other food but gall.   

A proof whereof a plat, a pattern plain,  
The ruthful race I Vortiger have run,  
Desciphers so, that man may see how vain  
A thing it is his former Fate to shun:  
Honour obtained (alas) what have we won?  
A hideous heap of cruel carking care,  
Which to consume man's life doth never spare.   Thomas Blener Hasset.  

HOW UTER PENDRAGON WAS ENAMOURED ON the wife of Gorolus Duke of Cornwall, whom he slew, and after was poisoned by the Saxons, Anno Dom. 500  

WE lead our lives by fancies fond delight,  
For kingdoms some do busy much their brain,  
But Cupid's curse that wretched little wight,  
That blinded boy unto my pinching pain,  
Dubbed me a Knight of dainty Venus' train,  
Where beams of Beauty brought me by and by,  
To cast my care to please my Lady's eye.   

O Beauty brave, thy gladsome glittering gleams,  
With smiling cheer and wildie winking eyes,  
Doth drown with dole amidst the surging streams  
Of deep despair, the wights which be most wise.  
Ay me, my wit, my pen cannot devise  
Of Beauty brave to make a true discourse,  
To think thereof I feel myself the worse.   

I Pendragon of Britain crowned King,  
The fretting force of Beauties hateful hue,  
Those frying flames I felt, that hateful sting,  
That wounds my fame, which now too late I rue,  
Whilst with delight I did thy vaunting view,  
I like the Hawk which soars in good estate,  
Did spy a Stale, I stooped, and took a Mate.   

For at what time the Saxons did assail  
My Britain state, and took each man a share,  
My kingdom they even for their best avail,  
Did then divide: for which with carking care  
Them thence to drive, I did my power prepare.  
And being come to Cornwall with my band,  
I meant to have Duke Gorolus helping hand.   

There in the Church I set to sacrifice,  
Those holy vows, which victories require:  
Even whilst I did with all my heart devise,  
How to subdue my foes with sword and spear,  
Even then there did this peerless Pearl appear,  
Duke Gorolus wife, whose gallant gate and grace,  
Stealing mine heart, my honour did deface.   

When Vortiger my brother did oppress,  
In exile then my youthful years were spent,  
At my return his fault he did confess,  
And from his crown the crown in haste I sent.  
Then my delight was in the dierie dent  
Of wrackful war, but now transformed I stand,  
The ancient Oak must grow now like a wand.   

I marvelled much how Siren's songs might please,  
But now I muse that Circe's sorcery,  
Doth not from every man bereave his ease.  
Calipso's cups with poisoned treachery,  
Cannot so much abridge man's liberty,  
As Siren's songs, and Circe's subtle art,  
Whose chanting charms enwrapped with woe my heart.   

Ulysses' sailing by the perilous place,  
Where these to please the passers by, did play,  
Where Lady Love doth vaunt with garish grace,  
Her dainty Damsels gallant Girls, and gay,  
Enticing trulls, they caused the Greek to say,  
With cables come and tie me to this Mast,  
Lest I myself to pleasures Court me cast.   

Muse not therefore though feature fine of face,  
Though comely corpse, and trim enticing cheer,  
Made me obey Sir Cupid's mighty Mace:  
The force whereof Ulysses' wise did fear.  
He sailed aloof, he from these banks did bear  
His shaking ship, but other many more  
Did there arrive, and weaved the web of woe.   

There Solomon did reap the crop of care,  
There David loved as I, Urias' wife,  
There Samson strong was snarled in the snare,  
There Paris lived, even there he lost his life,  
There Helen's hate, brought Troy her final strife,  
Alcides he the mighty Hercules  
There to arrive, did find it dangerous.   

I learned with loss of my renown at last,  
That he who doth delight in lawless love,  
Must play the fool ere all the parts be past,  
And taste the sauce prepared for his behove.  
Let men take heed how they their fancies move,  
Let man beware where he doth cast his eye,  
The limed bird doth prove in vain to fly.   

O ancient Rome, thou did'stordaine of yore,  
That women should no banqueting frequent,  
At Rome she was esteemed a harlot whore,  
If from her house without her veil she went,  
Which laws no doubt were made to good intent,  
For why the beams of beauties sanguined sight,  
Like Basilisk doth spoil the gazing wight.   

Therefore the maids, and Roman matrons all,  
A shadowing veil before their face did wear,  
Their heavenly hue did throw no man to thrall,  
They were content with plain and decent gear,  
They huft it not with painted frizzled hear.  
The married wife, the matron, and the maid,  
They of their veils were glad and well paid.   

If women thus had walked in my time,  
I had not stooped unto that painted lure,  
Which did entice me to commit the crime,  
Which to the perch of lewdness tied me sure,  
For her disport my Lady could procure  
The wretched wings of this my muting mind,  
Restless to seek her empty fist to find.   

I thus arrived in Pleasure's cursed court,  
I loathed Mars, I hated Mercury,  
It was me thought a passing pleasant sport,  
Leaving the fields at Bacchus' bravery,  
Sometime to sit upon my mistress knee,  
Where that I might be at my pleasure placed,  
I sent the Duke away to wars in haste.   

You which have played with pleasures banding balls,  
You know the life which lingering lovers lead,  
You know how sweet it is to scale the walls  
Of her good will, who lived in fear and dread,  
You know right well how well those wights have sped,  
Who have at last by drifts of long delay,  
Their hoped meed, and wished pleasant prey.   

Unconquered beauty whence hadst thou that power  
To make stout Uter stoop to his own shame,  
That never stooped to foes? why for that flower  
Of sweet delight in Igren that fair Dame  
Did I forego the golden flower of fame?  
Victorious beauty and base yielding lust  
Did cast great Vters conquests in the dust.   

Yet no such blame as writers do record  
Do I deserve for this unhappy deed:  
Proud Gorolus the bright-cheekt Igrens' Lord  
Received no wrong but his own merits meed,  
When in the field I made his heart to bleed,  
If thoughts of treason merit death and shame,  
His treacherous deeds did well deserve the same.   

His graceless treason he in act did show  
For when I sent him to Nathaliod hight  
In bloody field against the Saxon foe,  
He swollen in heart with envy and despite  
Of his associates good did leave the fight,  
And leaving stout Nathaliod for a pray  
Unto the foes, from field he fled away.   

By which enforced I was with Mars to rise  
From Venus' bed, and arm me for the field,  
Where like a storm in thunder clad from skies  
Upon my foes I fell, they could not shield  
Themselves from death, few scap't that did not yield.  
Occa and Ossa both I down did bring,  
And led them captive like a conquering King.   

Again I then 'gan think upon my love  
Upon mine Igren dear, against whose Lord  
I finding cause, for that he late did prove  
Faithless to me, did with my lust accord  
'Gainst him, as ' against my foe to draw my sword,  
Whom by his castle called Dunilioc,  
I slew with blade in battles bloody stroke.   

Then did I take mine Igren as mine own  
And crowned her Queen in my Imperial chair,  
On whom great Arthur I begot anon.  
And after him my Anna hight the fair,  
In seeming bliss I long lived void of care,  
For thrice nine years with Igren I did reign,  
And 'gainst the Saxons did my state maintain.   

But for the rape of Gorolus his wife  
The heavens did power down vengeance on my head,  
I by untimely death did end my life,  
My said soul hence enforced by poison fled,  
By Saxons wrought, who often wished me dead,  
And left behind for all my deeds of fame  
Just cause for writers pens to speak my shame.   

Learn they which live in high or low degree,  
To flee the foil which I by folly felt:  
Let them refrain those lofty Dames to see,  
They know how lofty looks with me have dealt,  
You see how sight did make my honour melt.  
Let all men know, man's heart did never rue  
The thing which he with sight did never view.   

But how may men the sight of Beauty shun  
In England, at this present dismal day?  
All void of veils (like Lays) where Ladies run  
And room about at every feast and play,  
They wandering walk in every street and way:  
With lofty luring looks they bouncing brave,  
The highest place in all men's sight must have.   

With pride they prank to please the wandering eye,  
With garish grace they smile, they jet, they jest:  
O English Dames, your lightness verily,  
The Courtesans of Rome do much detest,  
In closerts close to live they count it best.  
They give not grace to every wandering wight,  
Your smiling cheer doth every man delight.   

The Poet's gods Saturn, and jupiter,  
To Beauty's beck their highness did obey,  
Pluto of hell did plead at Beauty's bar,  
And Phillis caused Demophoon to stay:  
Pasiphäe a Bull brought to the bay.  
So gods and devils, both men and beasts, they all  
By women's wiles are slaves to Beauty's thrall.   

What gain is got by light and wanton ways?  
You reap reproach, a guerdon got thereby:  
Men by your means do cause their own decay,  
And you yourselves all soused in sin must die.  
Refrain therefore to please man's gazing eye,  
Let men likewise the baited hooks refrain  
Of luring looks, their vaunting vows be vain.   Thomas Blener Hasset.  

HOW CADWALLADER THE LAST KING OF THE Britain's was expelled by the Saxons, went to Rome, and there lived in a religious house.  
YOu mourning Muses all, where ever you remain,  
Assist my sobbing soul this dreary tale to tell:  
You furious Furies fierce of Limbo Lake below,  
Help to unlade my breast of all the bale it bears:  
And you who felt the fall from honours high renown:  
From graves you grizlie ghosts send forth, to help me mourn.  
O Pallas, give thou place, that mourning Clio may  
On Lute lamenting, sound and sing my doleful dumps.  
Let rhyming meetered lines and pleasant music cease:  
Let satires solemn sound send forth the fall I felt:  
And when the truth of all my Tragedy is known,  
Let them that live then learn, all things must have an end,  
The Persian Monarch and the Medes it down did fall,  
That of Assyria, in tract of time did end:  
Yea Alexander's force in fight subdued them both,  
And brought the world so wide into one Monarchy.  
What though the fretting force of Fate did him dismay?  
He felt at last the foil, his vaunting was in vain,  
He dead, the world it was divided as before.  
The Roman Empery came tumbling down at last.  
And where is Troy, and Greece, and mighty Macedon?  
They flourished for a time like this my little I'll:  
The Soldion brought them down, and did their states destroy:  
Even so the Saxons brought the Britaines to the bay,  
Even these mine eyes did see, that hateful hideous sight,  
These feeble hands, when long they laboured had in vain,  
Did yield their interest: then thus I did complain:  
Who can refrain the force of mighty mounting seas?  
When billows make a breach and beat the banks adown,  
Doth not the saltish surge than beat the banks adown?  
Then man may not withstand the rigour of their rage.  
But wisdom would have kept the waves within their bounds:  
Counsel doth come too late, when hope of help is past.  
Such was my filthy fate, my lewd and loathsome luck:  
I sought a salve to cure and help the helpless wound.  
For long before my time, seven Kings were settled here,  
The Saxons such as dwelled by East, Sibertus ruled,  
The Angles in the East, Redwallus ruled as King,  
Then Ethelbert was King of all the coast of Kent,  
In Southsex Ethelwolfus wore the regal crown:  
Then Quincillinus was a Saxon King by West,  
Of Martia in the midst King Penda was the Prince,  
And Edwin in Northumberland did rule and reign,  
How did my Grandsire grand renowned Arthur he  
These seven destroy with deadly field of wrackful war?  
But Mordred made the mean, that brought them in again:  
Vortiporus with war almost consumed them all.  
Then Malgo he with peace restored again their state,  
Cariticus the sin of civil strife did love,  
For which Gurmundus did the Britain's much annoy.  
Then Cadwin out of Wales King Etheldred did spoil,  
Cadwalline then did force King Penda to a foil,  
And I Cadwallader at last did press in place,  
Then Lothar king of Kent in war that wretch I slew.  
And Ethiwolne the king of South saxons I spoiled,  
The other five did me invade with cruel fight,  
With whom in divers wars, I diversly did speed.  
Sometime Bellona blew a blessed blast for me,  
And changed chance sometime did force my men to flee.  
Whilst thus I waged my wars in secret silent night,  
The very voice of God, it thus to me did speak:  
Thou strivest against the stream, the tide doth beat thee back,  
Strike thou thy sails, take anchor hold, else must thou feel a wrack.  
Which saying did indeed amaze me more by much,  
Then all the force that man against my will might bend:  
For who the will of God with weapons may resist?  
And when as sin hath sold a country to decay,  
Then prayer must prevail, for weapons will not help.  
And when the end is come, when all the glass is run,  
Who can resist the force of Fate and destinies?  
Who things forerun to fall from falling can refrain?  
It passeth mortal might to bring such things about.  
Let man content himself to do what best he may,  
By trying too too much, no man his God may tempt,  
But mortal man must think that God the best doth know,  
Who can depress to dust and raise when best him please.  
And as I thus amidst my muse did remain,  
I did resign my crown, and deemed all honours vain.  
And though it grieved me much to feel the fall I felt,  
Yet was I well content, I could not as I would:  
For which I left my land, my people, and my place.  
The Saxons they obtained the wage for which they warred.  
When I three years had reigned, without one day of rest,  
Even then in mourning robes at Rome I did arrive,  
And there contemning all the world, and worldly things,  
I made myself a Monk, (cease Memory to muse)  
A Monk I made myself, thou knowest it passing plain:  
Amongst the Friars there, I led my lingering life.  
And till my dying day I daily did devise,  
How by my means it might to all the world be known.  
That mortal flesh is frail, and every thing must fade:  
And even amongst those things which Nature doth create,  
Nothing so vile as man amongst the rest is found,  
Which made Heraclitus with ceaseless sighs to wail,  
He to his dying day did nothing else but weep,  
Affirming all the world under the heaven, to be  
A path of penitence, maze of misery.  
What is the life of man but care and daily toil,  
Bearing always about a burden of mishaps?  
All his delights repentance daily doth pursue:  
Nothing but death doth bring him peace and quiet rest.  
Yet that which brings him bliss, he most of all doth hate,  
Which made Democritus with mirth to spend his days;  
He laughing aye, did mock the madness of mankind,  
Whose love is long to live, and feareth much to die:  
Death reaves us from disease, Death ends the fear of death.  
When Midas did demand Silenus, what was best  
For mortal man to wish, the satire thus did say,  
Not to be borne, if borne, not long our lives to lead,  
For life I most do loath, and death I least do dread.  
And how did Timon lead with savage beasts his life?  
How did that Hermit poor, his loathsome life detest?  
Affirming with the wise Aurelius' Emperor,  
That if a man should make a true discourse of all  
The wretched woes he felt, from birth to dying day,  
The feeble flesh would faint to feel so sharp a fight,  
The heart would quake to hear Dame Fortunes sharp assaults.  
And I Cadwallader a king, can make report,  
That nothing may content the mind of mortal man:  
The more myself did eat, the hungrier ay I was,  
The more I drank, the more thirst did me still distress.  
The more I slept, the more I sluggish did remain,  
The more I rested me, the more I wearied was,  
The more of wealth I had, the more I did desire,  
The more I still did seek, the less I aye did find.  
And to conclude, I found I never could obtain  
The thing, but in the end it caused me to complain:  
My present good success, did threaten thrall to come;  
And changing chance did still with sorrow me consume,  
For which my royal robes, my crown I laid aside;  
Meaning to prove by proof the pains of poverty,  
Which poverty I felt all riches to exceed,  
It beareth much more bliss, then high and courtly state,  
Codrus and Irus poor for wealth did far surpass  
Midas and Croesus' king, for wealth who did surpass.  
And I amongst my mates the Romish Friars, felt  
More joy and less annoy, than erst in Britain brave.  
For there I doubted still, the Saxons subtle sleights,  
I feared there the fall from royal regal seat:  
But here at Rome I lived not fearing force of foe,  
I had for mine estate, what I could wish or crave,  
And this I there did find: they of the Clergy be,  
Of all the men that live the least in misery.  
For all men live in care, they careless do remain.  
Like buzzing Drones they eat the honey of the Bee,  
They only do excel for fine felicity:  
The king must wage his wars, he hath no quiet day,  
The noble man must rule with care the commonweal,  
The Countryman must toil to till the barren soil,  
With care the Merchant man the surging seas must sail,  
With trickling drops of sweat the handcrafts' man doth thrive▪  
With hand as hard as board the workman eats his bread,  
The soldier in the field with pain doth get his pay,  
The serving man must serve and crouch with cap and knee,  
The Lawyer he must plead and trudge from bench to bar,  
Who Physic doth profess, he is not void of care:  
But Churchmen they be blest, they turn a leaf or two,  
They sometime sing a Psalm, and for the people pray,  
For which they honour have, and sit in highest place,  
What can they wish or seek, that is not hard at hand?  
They labour not at all, they know no kind of pain,  
No danger doth with dread their happy lives distress,  
Cease you therefore to muse what madness made me leave  
The Court and courtly pomp of wearing royal crown,  
No madness did that deed, but wisdom wished it so,  
I gained thereby the bliss which few before me felt.  
I nine years led my life, and never felt annoy.  
And certainly if now I might be king again,  
Refusing all that pomp, I would become a priest,  
A Deacon, or a Dean, Prebend, or Minister.  
For these men lead their lives with livings two or three:  
Some have their substitutes in Universities,  
Some lead the bravest lives that any man may have,  
They feed upon the fleece, they force not of the flock:  
Three hours in the year, with beastly bosomde stuff  
They spend, and that is all that law of them requires.  
Muse not though many thrust and shoulder for degrees,  
For happy man is he, who hath a Preachers sees.  
But let me now return unto my Romish rout,  
Who fed like Bacon fat, did nought but play and pray.  
With whom for nine years space, when I my life had led,  
I song my Requiem, and paid the earth her fee.  
Then in Saint Peter's Church at Rome they did me lay,  
Booted and spurred, even as you see me here this day.  
So now you have the whole of all my Tragedy.  
Of Brutus' blood the last I lived that ruled as king:  
My Britaines driven to Wales they Welshmen then were called,  
And I at Rome their king, a mumbling Monk installed.  
The Saxons had the day, for which they longed long.  
They England called the Isle, of Brute which took her name.  
Some men be borne to bliss, and some to hateful hap:  
Who would have thought, that I in war a raging king,  
Should by the force of Fate, at Rome have died a Monk?  
Let all the world then know, that nothing is so sure,  
That can afford and say, I thus will aye endure.  
For that which seemeth best, is soon brought to nought,  
Which plainly doth appear by that which I have taught.  
The worthiest in the world, princes, philosophers,  
Will teach that I have taught, and prove it passing plain.  
Paulus Aemilius did die but wretchedly:  
And was not Scipio even to his dying day  
Constrained, to help his need, the painful plough to ply?  
Caesar and Silla both, did not they taste the whip?  
And made not Hannibal a miserable end?  
And how was Socrates before his time destroyed,  
And Anaxagoras imprisoned long with pain?  
For cruel beastly coin divine Plato was sold,  
And Aristotle sent to exile, where he died:  
And so was Solon sage, and that Lycurgus' wise,  
And many more, which here I could at large repeat.  
But let these few suffice to teach for certain truth,  
That all the men that live, are subjects all to ruth.  
And seeing so it is, then let them learn the mean,  
That if the bark do break, they safe may swim to land.  Thomas Blener Hasset.  

HOW SIGEBERT FOR HIS WICKED LIFE was thrust from his Throne, and miserably slain by a Herdsman, Anno Dom. 755.  

TWo parts in one a Herdsman here must play,  
My tale must tend each Prince's life to mend,  
And this my talk most plainly must display,  
How far a subject may himself defend  
Against his Liege, his Sovereign Lord and King,  
If his default his Commonweal doth bring  
To misery: therefore a little while  
Attend, and know the tenor of my style.   

A subject I of base and low degree,  
This headless corpse of life I did deprive,  
(King Sigebert it was) with cruelty.  
Whose lust was law, whilst he was here alive,  
To feel my force it was his destiny:  
Then cruelty I wracked with cruelty,  
And to revenge the wrong that erst he wrought,  
With loss of life his lawless lust he bought.   

This Sigebert the Saxons ruled by West,  
Their ancient laws he at his list did change,  
For which his Commons did him much detest.  
The Duke of Cornwall would not let him range  
Thus at his will, but wished him like a friend,  
To mend his faults, or else his life to end.  
Then he in rage this Duke my master's life,  
His cruel hands bereaved with bloody knife.   

A lawless life to lawless death doth hale,  
When witless will, will pass the power of may:  
Then ill mishap doth drown in dolours dale  
The perverse Prince, whose wit doth bear the sway.  
Just Abel's blood to God for vengeance called,  
For blood with blood the Bloodsheader is thralled,  
And him whom here before you I present,  
For shedding blood, my blade his life hath hent.   

As he three years his people did oppress,  
Then they whose back that burden could not bear,  
With one consent they did his state distress,  
To reave him of his Crown they did not fear,  
They him deposed from honour and renown:  
His hateful hap so frowardly did frown,  
That he who had a kingdom but of late,  
Forlorn he now must beg from gate to gate.   

Do nothing muse at his deserved hap,  
For many more as he their lives have led:  
Ioues vengeance just such wretches doth enwrap  
With change most strange, when he their blood will shed.  
Of Dionyse of Syracusia,  
Of Nero's death, of Phalaris decay,  
Who list to read, he passing plain shall find,  
That he of heaven their sorrow hath assigned.   

And out of doubt God did ordain the fall  
Of him, whom here I headless have in hand,  
Who wandering in a wood amidst his thrall  
I met by chance, of whom I did demand  
His name, and place: who thus replied with fear?  
O friend, I am for meat now staruen well near,  
Give me therefore I thee beseech and pray  
Some meat, to keep my carcase from decay.   

Some Pilgrim poor, or wayfaring man him strait  
Liudged, and gave him what my scrip would yield;  
And whilst we both thus on a bank did bait,  
From sighs and sobs himself he could not wield,  
Which made me ask again his name and place,  
But silent he did mourn with frowning face:  
Yet at the last by urging to and fro,  
He thus declared the cause of all his woe.   

O miser I, more wretch than thee by much,  
I never could compare with thine estate.  
This heard of Swine against thee never grudge;  
I kept a heard, which did their Herdsman hate,  
A hateful heard of murmuring men I mean,  
Which did deprive me of mine honour clean.  
And now I lead my loathsome life you see,  
Impaled amidst a maze of misery.   

With changed chance (ay me) I chased am,  
And frowning Fate such sorrow hath assigned,  
That loathing life, most like a quiet Lamb,  
My naked neck to block of bale I bind.  
With cruel knife (O care) come shred my twist,  
So shall my soul by corpse decay be blessed.  
But sith that Care nor Fate will do this deed,  
Do thou the same I thee beseech, with speed.   

First hateful hope with flattering face did fawn,  
With dread when deep despaier would me have drowned,  
Then changed chance did check me with the pawn  
Of woeful want, when good success did sound  
A blessed blast: and now (to tell the truth)  
I have the mate, by raging Rook of truth.  
Lo thus I live, which daily wish to die:  
And life (alas) doth make my misery.   

If loathsome life (of this my corpse the king)  
Doth move one way, the Bishop bids me back:  
If to that point, the Queen me back doth bring,  
On th' other side, the Knight doth work my wrack,  
The other points with Pawns be all possessed,  
And here the Rook of ruth doth reave my rest.  
And being brought into this strange estate,  
I do confess myself to have a mate.   

Sith sorrow so hath seized upon my bones,  
That now too late I do lament my loss,  
And sith no means may turn my ghastful groans  
To joyful glie, sith trouble still doth toss  
Me to and fro, in waltering waves of woe:  
Death is my friend, and life I count my foe:  
Which death though once my feeble flesh did fear,  
Yet now I fain would feel his murdering spear.   

In gurging gulf of these such surging seas,  
My poorer soul who drowned doth death request,  
I wretched wight have sought mine own disease,  
By mine own means my state it was distressed.  
For whilst I meant to make my lust a law,  
justice me from my high estate did draw.  
So that I find, and feel it now with pain,  
All worldly pomp, all honour is but vain.   

Which honour I to fiery flames compare,  
For when they flash and flourish most of all,  
Then suddenly their flamings quenched are.  
For proof whereof, to mind now let us call  
Antigonus, and Ptolemeus Great,  
Caesar, and Mithridate, we may repeat,  
With Darius, and great Antiochus,  
Cambyses eke, and conquering Pyrrhus.   

And I the last might first have had my place,  
They all as I with flaming fiery show  
Were quenched quite: Dame Fortune did deface,  
Yea hateful hap, even than did overthrow  
Us most, when most we had our heart's desire:  
When most we flourished like the flames of fire,  
Even then the seas of sorrow did prevail,  
And made us wear a black lamenting sail.   

And here before my death, I will repeat  
To thee the thing which I of late did dream,  
That thou and all the world may see, how great  
A care it is to rule a royal realm.  
My dream shall show, that bliss doth not consist  
In wealth nor want: but he alone is blest,  
Who is content with his assigned fate,  
And never strives to climb to higher state.   

When seemly Sol had rest his glittering gleams,  
And night the earth did with her darkness vail,  
Dame Cynthia then with her bright burnished beams,  
The shadowed shades of darkness did assail,  
Then Somnus caused my senses all to quail.  
On careful couch then being laid to rest,  
With doubtful dreams I strangely was distressed.   

In cottage cold where care me thought did keep,  
With naked need and want of wherewithal:  
Where poverty next beggars door did creep,  
And where expenses were so passing small,  
That all men deemed that man forethronged with thrall,  
Which there did dwell, even there from bondage free,  
I viewed a man all void of misery.   

And whilst I mused how he in believe of bliss  
Could lead his life amidst that cave of care,  
From Princely Court proceeded ere I wist,  
A man, with whom there might no man compare.  
His wealth, his wit, his courage were so rare,  
That none before nor since were like to him:  
Yet he me thought in waves of woe din swim.   

This man had all that men could wish or crave  
For happy state, yet nought he had in deed:  
The other, he had nought that men would have,  
Yet had he all, believe it as thy Creed.  
This saying of that happy man I read,  
That having nought, yet all things so I have,  
That having nought, I nothing more do crave.   

The King me thought with all his Courtly train,  
Past to the place where poverty did dwell,  
With frowning face and with a troubled brain,  
With woe and want, his vexed veins did swell,  
With mirth and joy the poor man did excel.  
And being come unto his house maked  
Of one poor hogshead, thus to him he said:   

Diogenes, thou leadest a loathsome life,  
Me think thou mightst much better spend thy time  
Within my Court, both thou and eke thy wife:  
Thou by that means to high estate mayst climb:  
I have the wealth, and thou art void of crime,  
And lo, before thy face I here am priest  
To give thee that, which thou shalt now request.   

Stand back (Sir King) thy vaunting vows be vain,  
I nothing reck thy promise, goods, nor land,  
And Titan's stately streams would me sustain  
With heat, if thou from this my door wouldst stand:  
Thou tak'st away much more than thy command  
Can give again: thy gifts so vile I deem,  
That none but fools such follies do esteem.   

With conquest thou hast won the world so wide,  
And yet thou canst not win thy wandering will:  
Thou wouldst win an other world beside:  
But tush, that fact doth far surpass thy skill.  
Thou never wilt of Conquest have thy fill,  
Till death with daunting dart hath conquered thee,  
Then must thou leave behind, thy Monarchy.   

With great assaults myself I have subdued,  
In all respects, I have my hearts desire,  
With a contented mind I am endued,  
To higher state I never will aspire.  
More like a Prince than any poor Esquire,  
I lead my life: and sith my state is such,  
Ask thou of me, for I can give thee much.   

All dashed with dread me thought in fuming heat  
He said, departing thence in haste with speed,  
If I were not Alexander the Great,  
I would become Diogenes indeed,  
Who leads his life all void of woeful dread.  
He hath the wealth which I cannot obtain,  
I have the wealth which wise men do disdain.   

I live in fear, I languish all in dread,  
Wealth is my woe, the causer of my care,  
With fear of death I am so ill bestead,  
That restless I much like the hunted Hare,  
Or as the canuist Kite, doth fear the snare.  
Ten hundred cares have brought me to the bay,  
Ten thousand snares for this my life men lay.   

When Philip he of Macedon the King,  
One Realm me left, I could not be content,  
Desire pricked me to an other thing,  
To win the world it was my whole intent,  
Which done, an other world to win I meant.  
When least I had, then most I had of bless,  
Now, all the world, and all unquietness.   

No woe to want of contentation;  
No wealth to want of riches and renown,  
For this is seen in every nation,  
The highest trees be soon blown down:  
Ten kings do die before one clubbish Clown.  
Diogenes in quiet Tun doth rest,  
When Caesar is with carking care distressed.   

Wherewith me thought he was departed quite,  
And Morpheus that sluggish God of sleep,  
Did leave my limbs, wherewith I stood upright,  
Devising long what profit I could reap  
Of this my dream, which plainly did express  
That neither want nor wealth doth make man's bless;  
Who hath the mean with a contented mind,  
Most perfect bliss his God hath him assigned.   

But I, who lived a crowned King of late,  
And now am forced of thee to beg my bread,  
I cannot be content with this estate,  
I loath to live, I would I wretch were dead:  
Despaier she doth feed me with decay,  
And patience is fled and flown away.  
Do thou therefore O Herdsman play thy part,  
Take thou this blade, and thrust it to my heart.   

O Sir, I said, the gods defend that I  
Should causeless kill a man in misery,  
Tell me thy name and place, then by and by  
I will provide for thine adversity.  
Then he replied, my name is Sigebert,  
I am the man which wrought thy master's smart:  
I ruled of late this Realm even at my list,  
Take thou revenge with that thy friendly fist.   

And well content: I will revenge with speed  
The death of him whom causeless thou didst kill.  
King Sigebert, and art thou he indeed?  
Sith he thou art, dispatch and make thy will;  
For to my Lord this day I will present  
Thy head: therefore thy former faults repent,  
Thou seest the block on which thy life must end,  
Call thou for grace that God may mercy send.   

Wherewith he kneeling by the block of bale,  
Dispatch (quoth he) and do that friendly deed:  
O welcome death, and farewell Fortune frail,  
Dispatch good friend, dispatch my life with speed.  
Wherewith, on block he stretched his neck outright,  
And said no more, but praying me to smite,  
I gave the stroke which ended all his care,  
A bloody stroke, which did my death prepare.   

For I who hoped to have some great reward  
For killing of my Master's father's foe:  
Was hanged strait, my cause was never heard,  
Such was my chance and well deserved woe.  
For when my Lord had heard me tell the tale,  
How I his King and mine did there assail,  
His frowning face did put me in great fear,  
He sighed and sobbed, and said as you shall hear.   

O Caitiff vile, O Imp of Satan's seed,  
And hast thou killed our Sovereign Lord and King?  
His due desert deserveth death indeed,  
Yet what made thee to do so vile a thing?  
What though he did my father causeless kill?  
What though he ruled the Realm with lawless will?  
Shall we therefore, with cruel bloody knife,  
Deprive our Lord and King of vital life?   

O wicked deed, may subjects false surmise,  
With murdering minds their Governor resist?  
That may not be: for Tully wondrous wise,  
Plato, in whom true knowledge doth consist,  
They both agreed that no man ought to kill  
A Tyrant, though he hath him at this will.  
Yet thou (thou wretch) this bloody deed hast done,  
The like was never seen under the Sun.   

When God will plague the people for their sin,  
Them then to scourge he doth a Tyrant send:  
We should therefore that subjects be, begin  
With earnest mind our former saults t'amend:  
Which if we do, it is to great avail,  
Man's force is fond, fight cannot prcuaile.  
And he who doth resist the Magistrate,  
Resisteth God, repenting all too late.   

If subjects be by perverse Prince oppressed,  
They then must pray that God the change may make:  
Which God no doubt rebellion doth detest,  
No subject may his sword or armour take  
Against his Prince, whom God hath placed there.  
Yet hath this wretch all void of subjects fear,  
Destroyed a King whom God did thrust from throne:  
Alas poor King, thy death I do bemoan.   

But he who hath thy lingering life destroyed,  
Shall be destroyed, and find it passing plain,  
That no man may a Prince's life annoy.  
Although the Prince desires to be slain,  
Yet subjects must from shedding blood refrain.  
From which, seeing that this wretch could not abstain,  
Let him be hanged as I before decreed,  
A just reward for his so vile a deed.   

Then I forthwith to end my life was led,  
I hoped to have preferment for my deed,  
I was preferred, and hanged all save the head:  
Did ever man the like example read?  
Not one I think: therefore good Memory,  
In register enroll thou this for me,  
That they who live and read the fall I felt,  
May find how fate most strangely with me dealt.   

Yet my desert no doubt did death deserve,  
Though hatred did not make me kill my King,  
Yet lucre lewd did force my feet to swerver,  
That hateful hap, me to this bale did bring.  
Let them then learn that heedless live by hope,  
Her hateful hests will bring them to the rope:  
And happy he, who void of hope can lead  
A quiet life, all void of Fortune's dread.   

Perillus he who made the Bull of brass,  
Like him I hoped to have some great reward,  
But he in brazen belly broiled was,  
And to a scarf of hemp I was preferred.  
So they that mean by others harms to rise,  
Their dying day shall end with doleful cries.  
And here I end, approving that most true,  
From wicked works no goodness can ensue.   Thomas Blener Hasset.  

HOW LADY EBB DID FLEA HER NOSE AND UPPER lip away, to save her Virginity, Anno Dom. 870.  

DO nothing muse at my deformed face,  
For Nature it in perfect mould did make:  
And when your wits have weighed well the case,  
You will commend me much for virtues sake.  
With these my hands which from my face did take  
Mine over-lippe, and eke my seemly nose,  
So to avoid the rage of all my foes.   

For I by birth a Prince's daughter borne,  
An Abbiesse by my profession,  
Of which estate I never thought it scorn,  
It greatly did delight me to be one,  
Which might erect divine religion.  
At Collingam I took this charge in hand,  
And fifty more of chaste Diana's band.   

All Ladies borne by birth of high degree,  
Which there did vow with me their lives to lead,  
And to avoid carnal fragility,  
We all did vow as you right well may read,  
With single lives to live in fear and dread  
Of God our Lord, so to refrain the vice  
Of fleshly lust, which doth to sin entice.   

Then did the Danes the Saxon state invade,  
And they who did the Britain state destroy,  
To sue for grace were glad and well paid,  
So strangely did the Danes us then annoy,  
That Saxons like the men of broiling Troy,  
Amazed, they gazed, not knowing what was best,  
So straightly were the Saxons then distressed.   

These dreadful Danes they had no fear of God,  
But savage, they did make their lust a law,  
Whom God did send for a revenging rod,  
To make us Saxons live in fear and awe  
Of him, who did from servile bondage draw  
Us out, and made us live at liberty,  
When as we served with cruel slavery.   

Not much unlike the murmuring Israelites,  
Sometime we served our Lord with fear and dread,  
In trouble we employed our whole delights,  
To fast and pray: but when we quiet were,  
We restless led our lives, all void of care,  
Forgetting him who did in each distress,  
With helping hand us bless with good success.   

See here the fruit of health and good success,  
It maketh man both proud and insolent:  
In health we hate the God who hath us blest,  
Trouble doth make us mortal men repent  
Our former faults: in sickness we be bend  
To fast and pray, and in adversity,  
To pray to God, is man's felicity.   

And for this fault abusing this our bliss,  
The Danes with ruth our Realm did overrun,  
Their wrath enwrapped us all in wretchedness,  
There was no sin from which those men did shun.  
By them the Commonweal was quite undone.  
They did destroy the state of every town,  
They Churches burnt, they plucked the Abbeys down.   

Yet not content, us Nuns they did annoy,  
O cruel deed, our belts they did unbind,  
With rapine they did ravish and destroy,  
Deflowering all that ever they could find.  
I seeing then what sorrow was assigned  
To me and mine, my vowed virgins I  
Did call, than thus I spoke with weeping eye.   

Alas alas my loving Ladies all,  
These hard mishaps do press us too too near:  
What shall we do, how may we scape the thrall  
Which hath destroyed the Nunneries every where?  
Alas, my feeble flesh doth quake for fear:  
Alas, how shall we scape their cruelties,  
Which thus be placed amidst extremities?   

For if we do their hateful hests deny,  
Then dreadful death shall presently ensue:  
And if we grant unto their villainy,  
Our sinful souls in hell that deed shall rue.  
Believe me then my Ladies, this is true,  
Much better 'twere for us to die with fame,  
Then long to live, with everlasting shame.   

And for because the faces form doth move  
With beauty's beams and comely countenance,  
The mind of man to lust and lawless love,  
I have devised, my honour to advance,  
With face deformed to try my hard mischance:  
For these my hands from this my face shall rip  
Even with this knife, my nose and overlip.   

They which will fly reproachful infamy,  
To do the like will them beseem the best,  
You shall preserve your vowed virginity  
Thereby, and live perhaps with quiet rest.  
My daughter's dear, give ear unto my hest.  
Wherewith, with Razors sharp I first, than they,  
Each one her nose, and lip did slay away.   

Whilst thus we lived deformed to outward show,  
Yet vessels garnished gay before God's sight,  
The Danes did us invade, who strait did know  
Our feat, them to defeat of their delight:  
For which they wracked on us their wicked spite.  
With fiery flames they burnt our Nunnery,  
And us therein: O wretched cruelty!   

The ear of man the like hath never heard,  
No pen, nor tongue the like hath ever told,  
Had ever man a heart that was so hard,  
That with his iron breast durst be so bold,  
To do the like against the Femine kind?  
Not one in faith that ever I could hear,  
But these all void of mercy, love, and fear.   

Thus we content to leave this present life,  
In hope to have hereafters better bless,  
Were brent and broiled, and so did stint the strife  
Which might have made us live in wretchedness:  
We gained thereby a heavenly happiness.  
Which happiness they doubtless shall obtain,  
Which do from sin and wickedness abstain.   Thomas Blener Hasset  

HOW KING EGELRED FOR HIS WICKEDNESS WAS diversly distressed by the Danes, and lastly died for sorrow, Anno Dom. 1016.  

THe mind and not the Man doth make or mar,  
For as the stern doth guide the Argosy:  
So by their minds all men they guided are.  
From out the mind proceedeth fantasy,  
All outward acts, virtue or vanity,  
Not from the man, but from the mind proceed:  
The mind doth make the man to do each deed.   

For Phalaris with beastly bloody mind,  
And Nero did in murder much delight,  
To mercy Antoninus was inclined,  
Midas for gold extended all his might.  
For worldly pomp how did Pompeius fight?  
The mounting mind of Alexander, made  
Him win the world, his fame can never fade.   

How did the mind move Calicratides,  
Xerxes, Cyrus, and Argantonius?  
Philip of Macedon, Theramines,  
Ajax, jason, and Aurelianus,  
Achilles, and the old king Priamus,  
Hector, and Hercules, with false Sino,  
Their minds did make them weave the web of wo.   

The twig doth bend as Boreas' blasts do blow,  
So man doth walk even as his mind doth move:  
Then happy he who hath a mind to know  
Such things as be the best for his behove:  
No doubt the mind which virtuous acts doth love,  
Doth make a man even Caesar to surpass  
For noble deeds, who Prince of prowess was.   

But he who hath his mind to mischief bend,  
All his delight from virtue doth decline,  
Like me too late he shall his faults repent,  
His sinful soul shall feel the fall in fine  
That I have felt: which makes me to repine  
Against my mind: for Nature did her part,  
My mind inclined to ill, did spoil my heart.   

What though I were of comely parsonage?  
jointly my joints were joined with perfect shape,  
Adorned eke with so sweet a visage,  
That never yet from Nature's hands did scape  
A work maked of such a perfect shape:  
But what of that? these gifts for want of grace,  
Deformed quite the feature of my face.   

For why, my mind to ruthful ruin bend,  
I did delight in loathsome lechery:  
I never did my odious deeds repent,  
In drunkenness, in extreme cruelty,  
I did delight in all impiety.  
As for delight in princely exercise,  
The feats of arms I did them most despise.   

By means whereof my subjects did me hate,  
And foreign foes, to burn my Realm were bold:  
With war the Danes did alter strait the state.  
First Fortune did my commonweal unfold,  
Then pestilence did make my courage cold:  
And last of all, my foes the dreadful Danes  
Did make me pay them tribute for their pains.   

Even now the Realm of England did decay:  
For when the Danes their tribute had consumed,  
Forthwith they made us greater sums to pay.  
From ten to fifteen thousand they presumed  
Of pounds to make us pay: so I redeemed  
With money bags my careful commonwealth,  
The only means reserved for my health.   

When thus the want of courage on my part  
Had given my foes so sure a footing here,  
And when disease with her destroying dart  
Had wiped away my subjects every where:  
Even than too late my wisemen did appear,  
Whom heretofore I always did detest  
Their counsel grave, at last they thus expressed.   

O Egelred the fruit of fearfulness,  
Of riot thou the right reward dost reap:  
But if thou wilt avoid this wretchedness,  
Be wise, and look about before you leap.  
Of hateful haps you see a hideous heap  
Before your face, therefore in time give ear,  
And wisely weigh the words which thou shalt hear.   

That noble Duke Richard of Normandy,  
A Sister hath, whom thee we wish to wed,  
By means whereof from this captivity  
We may be brought, and that without bloodshed.  
For why these Danes these Normans so do dread,  
That if from thence an aid we can procure,  
Thy foes no doubt can never long endure.   

The maid she may a Prince's fancy please,  
Her brother is a man of great renown:  
This way O King may make thy subjects ease,  
It may restore the freedom of thy Crown:  
This only way will bring thy foemen down.  
If thou thy Crown and commonweal dost love,  
Do thou the thing so much for thy behove.   

So by their means I married the maid,  
She Emma hight, the flower of Normandy,  
Of whom I was so glad and well paid,  
That all the world with my prosperity  
Could not compare: and in that jollity  
I did devise by trains of secret treason,  
To bring the Danes to death, in a good season.   

I did a feast through all my Realm proclaim,  
At which both Danes and Englishmen did meet,  
Then secretly my friends and I did frame,  
That Englishmen the Danes should friendly greet,  
And at the feast that they should do their feat.  
And that they might the better work their will,  
They thus were placed according unto skill.   

Two before one, and three before five,  
Here two, and there two, and four then believe:  
Here one, and there one, and three at a cast,  
Then one, and twice two, and one at the last.   

They mingled thus, the watch word wisely given,  
And Englishmen with weapons well bestead,  
The Danes amidst their cups were shaven and shriven:  
Five hundred thousand in one day were dead.  
Now note the end of blood so heastly shed:  
For Swain the king of Denmark did arrive,  
He for revenge did me to Richard drive.   

Mark here how lawless polices prevail,  
Their good success do promise present pain.  
What? May man's vain devices ought avail?  
Dishonest deeds no honour can obtain,  
All murdering Massacres be vile and vain,  
Such subtle slights have never good success;  
The proof whereof with pain I here express:   

For Swain with sword and fire did here destroy,  
Both man and beast, and every earthly thing,  
He did that noble London much annoy,  
He won the Realm and was the English king.  
When tract of time him to his bear did bring,  
Canutus then his son did him succeed,  
Whom to displace I did dispatch with speed.   

My brother Richard Duke of Normandy,  
Of Normans gave to me a goodly band,  
By help of whom Canutus forced to flee,  
I got again the kingdom of England,  
But out (alas) what thing may firmly stand,  
Whose underprop is of so little might?  
That want of strength doth let things drop downright.   

Canutus did from Denmark now return,  
The wrathful wight appointed passing strong,  
My subjects slew, my Cities he did burn;  
Which when I heard I lived not very long,  
My fainting heart was thronged with a throng  
Of cares, which broke it in my fearful breast,  
And so at last death brought my bones to rest.   

Twice ten and eight I ran my ruthful race,  
And then in Paul's my cursed corpse was laid,  
Canutus did my commonweal deface,  
The Danes were kings, my kingdom was decayed,  
This world is frail, and every thing must fade,  
But always that which wanteth government,  
That first doth feel the force of dangers dent.   Thomas Blener Hasset  

HOW EDRICUS EARL OF MERCIA, DESTROYED THE VALIANT KING EDMUND IRON side, in hope of advancement, and how he was rewarded, Anno Dom. 1018.  

YOu hellish hags of Limbo Lake below,  
Which daily do my cursed corpse torment,  
Come forth, come forth, come forth, (I say) and show  
How I on earth my dismal days have spent.  
And will you not you wretched wights assent  
To help me here to tell that drierie tale,  
Which may amongst men living much prevail?   

O cursed ghost condemned to endless thrall,  
Sith they refuse to aid thee in this need,  
Do thou declare and tell the truth of all,  
That men alive my wretched works may read,  
And see the fruit of subtle Satan's seed,  
Avoiding vice, and fancies fond delight,  
Note well my tale, the truth I shall recite.   

When Etheldred had given Canutus place,  
Edmund his son surnamed Ironside,  
Devising how he might his foe deface,  
By wrath of war the cause they did decide:  
And in the end the Realm they did divide.  
Edmund had half, Canutus had the rest,  
Then they with peace and quietness were blest.   

O blind belief, O hope of higher hope,  
Why did you move my mind to meditate,  
How I in woe king Edmund might in wrap,  
And how I might depress my king's estate?  
Thou blind belief, thou breeder of debate,  
I wanting grace did let thee move my mind,  
Causeless to kill a courteous king, and kind,   

He being killed, I to Canutus went  
To whom I said, See here a faithful friend,  
I for thy love with bloody blade have hent,  
And brought my King to his untimely end:  
Thou by that means shalt rule thy realm with rest,  
My friendly ●ist with happy good success,  
Hath thee enriched with bliss and happiness.   

Hast thou (quoth he) destroyed thy sovereign King?  
Thou faithless sawning friend, for love of me?  
Thou varlet vile, and couldst thou do the thing  
The which might more a bridge my liberty?  
O heinous act! O bloody cruelty  
But sith that love did move thee do that deed,  
Thou for thy pains shalt be preferred with speed.   

Wherewith in haste he to the hangman said,  
Let this man's head the highest place obtain  
On London walls: wherewith I never stayed,  
But on a block my neck was cut in twain,  
In all men's sight, my head did long remain.  
See here what wit the grape of hope doth yield,  
See on what sand such busy brains do build.   

O hateful thing that fancies fond delight,  
The sense of mortal man should senseless make:  
When vices vaunts with virtues deeds dare fight,  
Then doth the soul the happy heavens forsake:  
Then man makes haste to Pluto's loathsome lake.  
Why should man love that sugared sour sweet,  
Which wisdoms lore to loath hath thought most meet?   Thomas Blener Hasset.  

HOW KING HAROLD REIGNING BUT NINE MONTHS, had continual war with the Danes, with the Norway King, with his brother TOSTIUS, and was at last slain in battle by William the Conqueror, An. Dom. 1095.  

WOuld he have war, and we to war proclaim?  
O Bastand Duke, and dost thou dare to fight?  
My Noble men, come forth, and purchase fame.  
Cive me my sword, let me defend my right.  
Step forth with speed my Martial men of might:  
With Bows and Bills, let us their course restrain:  
And teach them that their vaunting vows be vain.   

But that we may with wisdom wisely work,  
It us behoves in Normandy to fight  
With him, and not to let his soldiers lurk  
here in my Realm, we shall thereby achieve  
No noble act, though hence we him do drive.  
But if we deal with him in Normandy,  
We shall receive renown and victory.   

It is the best with foreign foes to fight  
Abroad, as did the haughty Hannibal,  
And not at home to feel their hateful spite.  
Of all the rest it is the greatest thrall,  
That foes arrived should spoil our subjects all:  
And for a truth this always hath been found,  
He speedeth best which fights on foreign ground.   

My men of war were mustered out of hand,  
But all my haste was then of none avail:  
My brother Tostius with his rebel band,  
In every place my subjects did assail,  
And every where did cause their hearts to quail.  
Whose wretched state from farther spoil to shield,  
I by my power did force him fly the field.   

He fled to Norway whence a cloud did rise  
That did obscure the shine of my content,  
When lo the Norman Duke did then devise,  
If I to yield my Sceptre would assent,  
For which betwixt us to and fro there went  
Despiteful letters, which I will recite,  
Wherein he claims, and I defend my right.   
WILLIAM DUKE OF NORMANDY, AND RIGHT heir to the English Crown, to Harold the Usurper.  
THough birthright cannot cause thee yield to me my Crown,  
Yet have thou some respect of honour and renown,  
For thou by oath didst swear to yield to me my right,  
When as I thee preferred, and staled thee there by might.  
Mine uncle Edward he, thy father's faithful friend  
Gave me his Crown, and thou thereto didst condescend,  
Yet now thou wouldst fain defeat me of my right,  
And prove thyself forsworn of former promise plight.  
Shall Harold have his hest: shall Godwines son be guide?  
Shall William want his will, and have his right denied?  
Well Harold, if thou canst with wars determine so,  
I am content: if not, provide, I am thy foe.  
My sons and all my kin shall never stint to strive,  
To pluck thee from thy place, whilst one is left alive:  
But if thou wilt bewise, to me my right resign,  
And thou shalt have the place belonging to thy line.  
If not, with fire and sword I mean thy Realm to spoil,  
I never thence will start till I have forced thy foil.  
And now thou knowst my will, determine for the best,  
Thou mayst have wars, and if thou wilt, thou mayst have rest.  
WILLIAM Duke of Normandy.  

THese letters were of little might, to make  
My manly mind to grant him his request,  
For which I did to Fortune me betake,  
To wage new wars with him I deemed it best,  
So from his fist his threatening blade to wrest.  
But see the force of Fortune's changing cheer,  
Another cloud before me did appear.   

My brother Tostius who from me was fled,  
Did now return, and brought the Norway King:  
They did devise to have from me my head,  
Which made me to indite another thing  
Unto the Duke, then plain and true meaning.  
I gave him hope of that I never meant,  
These were the lines which to the Duke I sent.   
HAROLD THE ENGLISH KING, TO THEE WILLIAM Duke of Normandy.  
HArold the English King, thou William Duke doth greet.  
Thy letter being read, I have not thought it meet,  
Without a Parliament to do so great a thing,  
As of a foreign Duke, to make an English King:  
But if my three estates will follow my advice,  
Thou shalt receive the Crown, and bear away the price.  
Therefore delay a time, thou shortly shalt receive  
With full consent the thing, which now thou seekest to have.  
HAROLD.  

I Armed in haste all danger to avoid,  
For why, I heard my brother Tostius train,  
Two of my Earls had in the North destroyed,  
And many a thousand men he there had slain:  
But when we met, his triumph was in vain.  
For I and mine the Norway King there kilte,  
And I myself my brother's blood there spilled.   

Now when the Duke my friendly lines had read,  
And heard how I my men did muster new,  
There lies a Snake within this green grass bed,  
Quoth he, therefore come forth my warlike crew,  
We will not stay to see what shall ensue.  
By long delays, from foreign coasts he may  
Procure an aid, to scourge us with decay.   

But when he heard with whom I had to deal,  
Well done (quoth he) let him go beat the bush,  
I and my men to the lurch line will steal,  
And pluck the Net even at the present push,  
And one of them we with decay will crush.  
For he who doth the victor there remain,  
Shall never rest, till he hath dealt with twain.   

So I in vain who had the victory,  
Within few days was forced again to fight,  
My strength half spoiled, my wounded men were weary,  
His camp was comen unwares within my sight,  
There was no hope to flee by day nor night.  
I Harold then, a Herald sent in haste,  
To know the plot where he his camp had placed.   

He sent me word, my ifs and and's were vain,  
And that he knew the drifts of my delay,  
For which he said he would yet once again  
Make trial, who should bear the crown away.  
If I would yield, he said his men should stay,  
If not, he then was present presently,  
To try the cause by Mars his cruelty.   

Which when I heard, and saw him march amain,  
His Trumpets did defy me to my face,  
In haste I did appoint my very train,  
And soldier-like I all my men did place,  
I never sued, nor prayed, nor gaped for grace.  
For having placed my men in battellray,  
I with loud voice to them these words did say.   

My mates, in arms see here the last assault,  
Win now the field, and be you ever blessed.  
This Bastard base borne Duke, shall he exalt  
Himself so high? give ear unto my hest,  
This day no doubt we shall have quiet rest:  
For good success shall set us free from fear,  
Or hateful hap shall bring us to our bear.   

Even here at hand his power doth appear,  
March forth my men, we must no longer stay:  
Let every man abandon fainting fear,  
And I as guide will lead you on your way.  
Even I myself the foremost in the fray,  
Will teach you how you shall abate his pride.  
Fight fight my men, your King shall be your guide.   

His Crossbow men my Archers did assail  
With three to one, yet were they all too weak:  
And when his forlorn hope could not prevail,  
Them to assist his Horsemen out did break,  
Three troops I sent on them the wrath to wreak,  
And by and by the battles both did join,  
With many a thrust, and many a bloody foin.   

Of three main battles he his army made,  
I had but one, and one did deal with three:  
Of which the first by me were quite dismayed,  
The other two they did discomfort me,  
Not yielding, but in yielding blows we be  
(With loss of life) constrained at last to yield  
The crown, the kingdom, and the fought field.   

Note now the lot which on my limbs did light,  
Nine months no more, I wore the English Crown,  
In every month I in the field did fight,  
In every fight, I won a fresh renown,  
Yet at the last my strength was beaten down,  
And here before you, now I do protest,  
I never had one day of quiet rest.     


To the Reader.  
Having hitherto continued the story (gentle Reader) from the first entrance of Brute into this Island, with the falls of such Princes, as were never before this time in one volume comprised, I now proceed with the rest, which take their beginning from the Conquest, whose penmen being many and divers, all diversly affected in the method of this their Mirror, I purpose only to follow the intended scope of that most honourable parsonage, who, by how much he did surpass the rest in the eminence of his noble condition, by so much he hath exceeded them all in the excellency of his heroical style, which with a golden pen he hath limmed out to posterity in that worthy object of his mind, the Tragedy of the Duke of Buckingham, and in his preface then entitled Master Sackuils' induction. This worthy Precedent of learning, intending to perfect all this story himself from the Conquest, being called to a more serious expense of his time in the great State-affairs of his most royal Lady and Sovereign, left the dispose thereof to M. Baldwine, M. Ferrer and others, the composers of these Tragedies, who continuing their method which was by way of dialogue or interlocution betwixt every Tragedy, gave it only place before the Duke of Buckingham's complaint, which order I since having altered, have placed the Induction in the beginning, with every Tragedy following according to succession and the just computation of time, which before was not observed; and lest any one think me envious of others deserts, I have subscribed the names of all such as I could hear of, under such Tragedies as each one particularly hath written; which at the request of the Printer, I have briefly perused as the former. In which (friendly Reader) if I have done amiss, I crave pardon for my oversight, hoping if pains will in stead of penance pacify thee, to yield thee satisfaction and content in my additions following, to which I refer thee.  
R. N.   

Mr. SACKVILS' INDUCTION.  

THe wrathful winter hastening on apace,  
With blustering blasts had all ybard the treene,  
And old Saturnus with his frosty face  
With chilling cold had pierced the tender green:  
The mantles rend, wherein enwrapped been  
The gladsome groves that now lay overthrown,  
The tapets torn, and every tree down blown.   

The soil that erst so seemly was to seen,  
Was all despoiled of her beauties hue,  
And soot fresh flowers (wherewith the summer's Queen  
Had clad the earth) now Boreas blasts down blue.  
And small fowls flocking, in their fong did rue  
The winter's wrath, wherewith each thing defaced,  
In woeful wise bewailed the summer past.   

Hawthorne had lost his motley livery,  
The naked twigs were shivering all for cold;  
And dropping down the tears abundantly,  
Each thing (me thought) with weeping eye me told  
The cruel season, bidding me with hold  
Myself within, for I was gotten out  
Into the fields, whereas I walked about.   

When lo the night with misty mantles spread  
'Gan dark the day, and dim the azure skies,  
And Venus in her message Hermes sped  
To bloody Mars, to will him not to rise,  
While she herself approached in speedy wise:  
And Virgo hiding her disdainful breast,  
With Thetis now had laid her down to rest.   

Whiles Scorpio dreading Sagittarius dart,  
Whose bow priest bend in fight, the string had slipped,  
Down slide into the Ocean flood apart.  
The Bear that in the Irish seas had dipped  
His grizzly feet, with speed from thence he whipped:  
For Thetis hasting from the Virgin's bed,  
Pursued the Bear, that ere she came was fled.   

And Phaeton now near reaching to his race  
With glistering beams, gold streaming where they bent,  
Was priest to enter in his resting place.  
Erythius that in the cart first went,  
Had even now attained his journeys stint:  
And fast declining hid away his head,  
While Titan couched him in his purple bed.   

And pale-faced Cinthea with her borrowed light,  
Beginning to supply her brother's place,  
Was past the Noonesteed six degrees in sight,  
When sparkling stars amid the heavens face,  
With twinkling light shone on the earth apace,  
That while they brought about the night's black char,  
The dark had dimmed the day ere I was ware.   

And sorrowing I to see the summer flowers,  
The lively green, the lusty lease forlorn:  
The sturdy trees so shattered with the showers,  
The fields so fade that flourished so before,  
It taught me well all earthly things be borne  
To die the death, for nought long time may last,  
The summer's beauty yields to winter's blast.   

Then looking upward to the heavens leams  
With nights bright stars thick powdered every where,  
Which erst so glistered with the golden streams,  
That cheerful Phoebus spread down from his sphere,  
Beholding dark oppressing day so near.  
The sudden sight reduced to my mind,  
The sundry changes that in earth we find.   

That musing on this worldly wealth in thought,  
Which comes and goes more faster than we see  
The flickering flame that with the fire is wrought,  
My busy mind presented unto me  
Such fall of Peers as in the realm had be:  
That oft I wished some would their woes descriue,  
To warn the rest whom Fortune left alive.   

And straight forth stalking with redoubled pace,  
For that I saw the night drew on so fast,  
In black all clad there fell before my face  
A piteous wight, whom woe had all forewast,  
Forth on her eyes the crystal tears out braced,  
And sighing sore her hands she wrung and fold,  
Tear all her hair that ruth was to behold.   

Her body small forwithered and forespent,  
As is the stalk that summer's drought oppressed,  
Her wealked face with woeful tears be sprent,  
Her colour pale (at it seemed her best)  
In woe and plaint reposed was her rest.  
And as the stone that drops of water wears,  
So dented were her cheeks with fall of tears.   

Her eyes full swollen with flowing streams afloat,  
Where with her looks thrown up full piteously,  
Her forceless hands together oft she smote,  
With doleful shrieks, that eckoed in the sky:  
Whose plaint such sighs did strait accompany,  
That in my doom was never man did see  
A wight but half so woebegone as she.   

I stood aghast, beholding all her plight,  
tween dread and dolour so distraind in heart,  
That while my hairs upstarted with the sight,  
The tears outstreamd for sorrow of her smart:  
But when I saw no end that could appart  
The deadly dole, which she so sore did make,  
With doleful voice then thus to her I spoke:   

Unwrap thy woes what ever wight thou be,  
And stint in time to spill thyself with plaint,  
Tell what thou art, and whence, for well I see  
Thou canst not dure with sorrow thus attaint.  
And with that word of sorrow all forfaint,  
She looked up, and prostrate as she lay,  
With piteous sound, lo thus she 'gan to say:   

Alas, I wretch whom thus thou seest distrained  
With wasting woes that never shall aslake,  
Sorrow I am, in endless torments pained  
Among the Furies in th' infernal lake:  
Where Pluto God of Hell so grizzly black  
Doth hold his throne, and Laetheus deadly taste  
Doth reave remembrance of each thing forepast:   

Whence come I am, the dreary destiny  
And luckless lot for to bemoan of those,  
Whom Fortune in this maze of misery,  
Of wretched chance, most woeful Mirors chose,  
That when thou seest how lightly they did lose  
Their pomp, their power, and that they thought most sure,  
Thou mayst soon deem no earthly joy may dure.   

Whose rueful voice no sooner had outbrayed  
Those woeful words, wherewith she sorrowed so:  
But out alas, she shright and never stayed,  
Fell down, and all to dashed herself for wo.  
The cold pale dread my limbs 'gan overgo;  
And I so sorrowed at her sorrows eft,  
That what with grief and fear my wits were reft.   

I stretched myself, and strait my heart revives,  
That dread and dolour erst did so appall,  
Like him that with the servant fever strives,  
When sickness seeks his castle health to scale,  
With gathered spirits so forced I fear t'auale.  
And rearing her with anguish all foredone,  
My spirits returned, and then I thus begun:   

Sorrow, alas sith Sorrow is thy name,  
And that to thee this drere doth well pertaives,  
In vain it were to seek to cease the same:  
But as a man himself with sorrow slain,  
So I alas do comfort thee in pain,  
That here in sorrow art foresunke so deep,  
That at thy sight I can but sigh and weep.   

I had no sooner spoken of a stick,  
But that the storm so rumbled in her breast,  
As Aeolus could never roar the like,  
And showers down reigned from her eyes so fast,  
That all bedreint the place, till at the last  
Well eased they the dolour of her mind,  
As rage of rain doth suage the stormy wind.   

For forth she pased in her fearful tale:  
Come, come (quoth she) and see what I shall show:  
Come hear the plaining, and the bitter bale  
Of worthy men, by Fortune's overthrow:  
Come thou and see them ruing all in row.  
They were but shades that erst in mind thou rolled:  
Come, come with me, thine eyes shall them behold.   

What could these words but make me more aghast,  
To hear her tell whereon I mused while ere?  
So was I mazed therewith: till at the last,  
Musing upon her words, and what they were,  
All suddenly well lessoned was my fear:  
For to my mind returned how she teld  
Both what she was, and where her won she held.   

Whereby I knew that she a Goddess was,  
And therewithal resorted to my mind  
My thought, that late presented me the glass  
Of brittle state, of cares that here we find,  
Of thousand woes to silly men assigned:  
And how she now bid me come and behold,  
To see with eye that erst in thought I told.   

Flat down I fell, and with all reverence  
Adored her, perceiving now that she  
A Goddess sent by godly providence,  
In earthly shape thus show'd herself to me,  
To wail and rue this world's uncertainty:  
And while I honoured thus her Godheads might,  
With plaining voice these words to me she shright:   

I shall thee guide first to the grisly lake,  
And thence unto the blissful place of rest,  
Where thou shalt see and hear the plaint they make,  
That whilom here bare swinge among the best.  
This shalt thou see, but great is the unrest  
That thou must bide, before thou canst attain  
Unto the dreadful place where these remain.   

And with these words as I upraised stood,  
And 'gan to follow her that strait forth passed,  
Ere I was ware, into a desert wood  
We now were come: where hand in hand embraced  
She led the way, and through the thick so traced,  
As but I had been guided by her might,  
It was no way for any mortal wight.   

But lo, while thus amid the desert dark,  
We passed on with steps and pace unmeet,  
A rumbling roar confused with howl and bark  
Of Dogs, shook all the ground under our feet,  
And struck the din within our ears so deep,  
As half distraught unto the ground I fell,  
Besought return, and not to visit hell.   

But she forthwith uplifting me a pace  
Removed my dread, and with a steadfast mind,  
Bade me come on, for here was now the place,  
The place where we our travails end should find.  
Wherewith I rose, and to the place assingde  
Aston'd I stalked, when strait we approached near  
The dreadful place, that you will dread to hear:   

And hideous hole all vast, withouten shape,  
Of endless depth, o'erwhelmed with ragged stone,  
With ugly mouth, and grisly jaws doth gape,  
And to our sight confounds itself in one.  
here entered we, and yeeding forth, anon  
A dreadful loathly lake we might discern  
As black as pitch, that cleped is Avernus.   

A deadly gulf where nought but rubbish grows,  
With foul black swelth in thickened lumps that lies,  
Which up in th' air such stinking vapours throws  
That over there, may fly no fowl but dies,  
Choked with the noisome lavours that arise.  
Hither we come, whence forth we still did pace,  
In dreadful fear amid the dreadful place:   

And first within the porch and jaws of hell  
Sat deep Remorse of conscience, all besprent  
With tears: and to herself oft would she tell  
Her wretchedness, and cursing never stint  
To sob and sigh: but ever thus lament,  
With thoughtful care, as she that all in vain  
Would wear and waste continually in pain.   

Her eyes unsteadfast rolling here and there,  
Whurled on each place, as place that vengeance brought,  
So was her mind continually in fear,  
Tossed and tormented with tedious thought  
Of those detested crimes which she had wrought:  
With dreadful cheer and looks thrown to the sky,  
Wishing for death, and yet she could not die.   

Next saw we Dread, all trembling how he shook,  
With foot uncertain proffered here and there,  
Benumbed of speech, and with a ghastly look  
Searched every place all pale and dead for fear,  
His cap borne up with staring of his hear,  
Soyned and amazed at his own shade for dread,  
And fearing greater dangers than was need.   

And next within the entry of this lake  
Sat fell Revenge gnashing her teeth for ire,  
Devising means how she may vengeance take,  
Never in rest till she have her desire:  
But frets within so farforth with the fire  
Of wreaking flames, that now determines she  
To die by death, or venged by death to be.   

When fell Revenge with bloody foul pretence  
Had show'd herself as next in order set,  
With trembling limbs we softly parted thence,  
Till in our eyes another sight we met:  
When from my heart a sigh forthwith I fet,  
Ruing alas upon the woeful plight  
Of Misery, that next appeared in sight.   

His face was lean, and somedeal pined away,  
And eke his hands consumed to the bone,  
But what his body was I cannot say,  
For on his carcase raiment had he none,  
Save clouts and patches pieced one by one,  
With staff in hand, and scrip on shoulder cast,  
His chief defence against the winter's blast.   

His food for most, was wild fruits of the tree,  
Unless sometime some crumbs fell to his share,  
Which in his wallet long God workepthe,  
As one the which full daintily would fair.  
His drink the running stream: his cup the bare  
Of his palm closed, his bed the hard cold ground.  
To this poor life was Misery ybound.   

Whose wretched state when we had well beheld,  
With tender ruth on him and on his fears,  
In thoughtful cares, forth than our pace we held:  
And by and by, another shape appears  
Of greedy Care, still brushing up the breers,  
His knuckles knobbed, his flesh deep dented in,  
With tawed hands, and hard ytanned skin.   

The morrow grey no sooner hath begun  
To spread his light even peeping in our eyes,  
When he is up and to his work yrun.  
But let the night's black misty mantles rise,  
And with foul dark never so much disguise  
The fair bright day, yet ceaseth he no while,  
But hath his candles to prolong his toil.   

By him lay heavy Sleep cousin of Death  
Flat on the ground, and still as any stone,  
A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath.  
Small keep took he whom Fortune frowned on,  
Or whom she lifted up into the throne  
Of high renown, but as a living death,  
So dead alive, of life he drew the breath.   

The body's rest, the quiet of the heart,  
The travails ease, the still night's fear was he.  
And of our life in earth the better part,  
Rever of sight, and yet in whom we see  
Things oft that tide, and oft that never be.  
Without respect esteeming equally  
King Croesus pomp, and Irus poverty.   

And next in order sad Old Age we found,  
His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind,  
With drooping cheer still poring on the ground,  
As on the place where nature him assigned  
To rest, when that the sisters had untwined  
His vital thread, and ended with their knife  
The fleeting course of fast declining life.   

There heard we him with broke and hollow plaint  
Rew with himself his end approaching fast,  
And all for nought his wretched mind torment,  
With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past,  
And fresh delights of lusty youth forewast.  
Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek?  
And to be young again of jove beseek.   

But and the cruel fates so fixed be,  
That time forepast cannot return again,  
This one request of jove yet prayed he:  
That in such withered plight, and wretched pain,  
As eld (accompanied with loathsome train)  
Had brought on him, all were it woe and grief,  
He might a while yet linger forth his life,   

And not so soon descend into the pit:  
Where Death, when he the mortal corpse hath slain,  
With reckless hand in grave doth cover it,  
Thereafter never to enjoy again  
The gladsome light, but in the ground ylaine,  
In depth of darkness waste and wear to nought,  
As he had near into the world been brought.   

But who had seen him, sobbing how he stood  
Unto himself, and how he would bemoan  
His youth forepast, as though it wrought him good  
To talk of youth, all were his youth foregone,  
He would have mused and marvelled much whereon  
This wretched Age should life desire so fain.  
And knows full well life doth but length his pain.   

Crookebackt he was, tooth shaken, and blere eyed,  
Went on three feet, and sometime crept on four,  
With old lame bones, that rattled by his side,  
His scalp all piled, and he with eld forlese:  
His withered fist still knocking at Death's door,  
Fumbling and drivelling as he draws his breath,  
For brief, the shape and messenger of Death.   

And fast by him pale Malady was placed,  
Sore sick in bed, her colour all foregone,  
Bereft of stomach, savour, and of taste,  
Ne could she brook no meat but broths alone.  
Her breath corrupt, her keepers every one  
Abhorring her, her sickness past recure,  
Detesting physic, and all physics cure.   

But oh the doleful sight that then we see,  
We turned our look, and on the other side  
A grisly shape of Famine mought we see,  
With greedy looks, and gaping mouth that cried,  
And roared for meat as she should there have died,  
Her body thin, and bare as any bone,  
Whereto was left nought but the case alone.   

And that alas was gnawn on every where,  
All full of holes, that I ne mought refrain  
From tears, to see how she her arms could tear,  
And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain:  
When all for nought she feign would so sustain  
Her staruen corpse, that rather seemed a shade,  
Then any substance of a creature made.   

Great was her force, whom stonewall could not stay,  
Her tearing nails snatching at all she saw:  
With gaping jaws, that by no means ymay  
Be satisfied from hunger of her maw,  
But eats herself as she that hath no law:  
Gnawing, alas, her carcase all in vain,  
Where you may count each sinew, bone, and vain.   

On her while we thus firmly fixed our eyes,  
That bled for ruth of such a driety sight,  
Lo suddenly she shrinkt in so huge wise,  
As made hell gates to shiver with the might.  
Wherewith a dart we saw how it did light  
Right on her breast, and therewithal pale Death  
Enthrilling it to reave her of her breath.   

And by and by a dumb dead corpse we saw,  
Heavy and cold, the shape of death aright,  
That daunts all earthly creatures to his law:  
Against whose force in vain it is to fight.  
Ne Peers, ne Princes, nor no mortal wight,  
No Town, ne Realms, Cities, ne strongest Tower,  
But all perforce must yield unto his power.   

His dart anon out of the corpse he took,  
And in his hand (a dreadful sight to see)  
With great triumph eftsoons the same he shook,  
That most of all my fears afraid me.  
His body dight with nought but bones perdie,  
The naked shape of man there saw I plain,  
All save the flesh, the sinow, and the vain.   

Lastly stood War in glittering arms yelad,  
With visage grim, stern looks, and blackely hewed,  
In his right hand a naked sword he had,  
That to the hilts was all with blood imbrued:  
And in his left (that King and kingdoms rued)  
Famine and fire he held, and therewithal  
He razed towns, and threw down towers and all.   

Cities he sacked, and Realms that whilom flowered  
In honour, glory, and rule above the best  
He overwhelmed, and all their fame devoured,  
Consumed, destroyed, wasted and never ceased,  
Till he their wealth, their name and all oppressed.  
His face forehewed with wounds, and by his side  
There hung his targe, with gashes deep and wide.   

In midst of which, depainted there we found  
Deadly Debate, all full of snaky hear,  
That with a bloody fillet was ybound,  
Out breathing nought but discord every where.  
And round about were portrayed here and there  
The huge hosts, Darius and his power,  
His Kings, Princes, his Peers, and all his flower;   

Whom great Macedo vanquished there in sight,  
With deep slaughter, despoiling all his pride,  
Pierced through his Realms, and daunted all his might.  
Duke Hannibal beheld I there beside,  
In Cannas' field, victor how he did ride,  
And woeful Romans that in vain withstood,  
And Consul Paulus covered all in blood.   

Yet saw I more the fight at Trasimene,  
And Treberie field, and eke when Hannibal  
And worthy Scipio, last in arms were seen  
Before Carthago gate, to try for all  
The world's Empire, to whom it should befall.  
There saw I Pompey, and Caesar clad in arms,  
Their hosts allied and all their civil harms,   

With Conquerors hands forbathed in their own blood,  
And Caesar weeping over Pompey's head.  
Yet saw I Scylla and Marius where they stood,  
Their great cruelty, and the deep bloodshead  
Of friends: Cyrus I saw and his host dead,  
And how the Queen with great despite hath flung  
His head in blood of them she overcome.   

Xerxes' the Persian King yet saw I there,  
With his huge host that drank the rivers dry,  
Dismounted hills, and made the vales uprere,  
His host and all yet saw I slain perdie.  
Thebes I saw all razed how it did lie  
In heaps of stones, and Tyrus put to spoil,  
With walls and towers flat evened with the soil.   

But Troy alas (me thought) above them all,  
It made mine eyes in very tears consume:  
When I beheld the woeful werd befall,  
That by the wrathful will of God was come:  
And Ioues unmoved sentence and foredoom  
On Priam's King, and on his town so bend,  
I could not lin, but I must there lament.   

And that the more, sith destiny was so stern  
As force perforce, there might no force avail,  
But she must fall: and by her fall we learn,  
That cities, towers, wealth, world, and all shall quail.  
No manhood, might, nor nothing mought prevail,  
All were there priest full many a Prince and Peer,  
And many a Knight that sold his death full dear.   

Not worthy Hector worthiest of them all,  
Her hope, her joy, his force is now for nought:  
O Troy, Troy, there is no boot but bale,  
The huge horse within thy walls is brought:  
Thy turret's fall, thy Knights that whilom fought  
In arms amid the field, are slain in bed,  
Thy gods defiled, and all thy honour dead.   

The flames uprising, and cruelly they creep  
From wall to roof, till all to cinders waste,  
Some fire the houses where the wretch's sleep,  
Some rush in here, some run in there as fast.  
In every where or sword or fire they taste.  
The walls are torn, the towers whurled to the ground,  
There is no mischief but may there be found.   

Cassandra yet there saw I how they haled  
From Pallis house, with spercled tress undone,  
Her wrists fast bound, and with greeks rout empaled:  
And Priam eke in vain how he did run  
To arms, whom Pyrrhus with despite hath done  
To cruel death, and bathed him in the bane  
Of his sons blood before the altar slain.   

But how can I describe the doleful sight,  
That in the shield so lively fair did shine?  
Sith in this world I think was never wight  
Could have set forth the half, not half so fine.  
I can no more but tell how there is seen  
Fair Ilium fall in burning red gledes down,  
And from the soil great Troy Neptunus' town.   

Here from when scarce I could mine eyes withdraw  
That filled with tears as doth the springing well,  
We passed on so far forth till we saw  
Rude Acheron, a loathsome lake to tell,  
That boils and bubs up swelth as black as hell,  
Where grisly Charon at their fixed tide  
Still ferries ghosts unto the farther side.   

The aged God no sooner Sorrow spied,  
But hasting strait unto the bank apace,  
With hollow call unto the rout he cried,  
To serve apart, and give the Goddess place.  
Strait it was done, when to the shore we place,  
Where hand in hand as we then linked fast,  
Within the boat we are together placed.   

And forth we launch full fraughted to the brink,  
When with th' unwonted weight, the rusty keel  
Began to crack as if the same should sink.  
We hoist up mast and sail, that in a while  
We fet the shore, where scarcely we had while  
For to arrive, but that we heard anon  
A three sound bark confounded all in one.   

We had not long forth past, but that we saw  
Black Cerberus the hideous hound of hell,  
With bristles reared, and with a three mouthed jaw,  
Foredinning th' air with his horrible yell.  
Out of the deep dark cave where he did dwell,  
The Goddess strait he knew, and by and by  
He peast and couched, while that we passed by.   

Thence come we to the horror and the hell,  
The large great Kingdoms, and the dreadful reign  
Of Pluto in his throne where he did dwell,  
The wide waste places, and the huge plain:  
The wail, shrieks, and sundry sorts of pain:  
The sighs, the sobs, the deep and deadly groan,  
Earth, air, and all resounding plaint and moan.   

Thence did we pass the threefold empery  
To th' utmost bounds, where Radamanthus reigns,  
Where proud folk wail there woeful misery,  
Where dreadful din of thousand dragging chains,  
And baleful shrieks of ghosts in deadly pains  
Tortured eternally are heard most brim  
Through silent shades of night so dark and dim.   

From hence upon our way we forward pass,  
And through the groves and uncouth paths we go,  
Which lead unto the Cyclops walls of brass:  
And where that maine-broad flood for aye doth flow,  
Which parts the gladsome fields from place of woe,  
Whence none shall ever pass t' Elysium plain,  
Or from Elysium ever turn again.   

With Sorrow for my guide, as there I stood,  
A troup of men the most in arms bedight,  
In tumult clustered 'bout both sides the flood:  
'Mongst whom, who were ordained t'eternall night,  
Or who to blissful peace and sweet delight  
I wot not well, it seemed that they were all  
Such as by deaths untimely stroke did fall.   

Some headless were, some body, face and hands,  
With shameful wounds despoiled in every part:  
Some strangled, some that died in captive bands,  
Some smothered, drowned, some stricken through the heart  
With fatal steel, all drowned in deadly smart:  
Of hastened death, with shrieks, sobs, sighs and tears,  
Did tell the woes of their forepast years.   

We stayed us strait, and with a rueful fear,  
Beheld this heavy sight, while from mine eyes  
The vapored tears down stilled here and there,  
And Sorrow eke in far more woeful wise,  
took on with plaint, up heaving to the skies  
Her wretched hands, that with her cry the rout  
'Gan all in heaps to swarm us round about.   

Lo here (quoth Sorrow) Princes of renown,  
That whilom sat on top of Fortune's wheel,  
Now laid full low, like wretches whurled down  
Even with one frown, that stayed but with a smile.  
And now behold the thing that thou erewhile  
Saw only in thought, and what thou now shalt hear,  
Recount the same to Kesar, King, and Peer.   

Then first came Henry Duke of Buckingham,  
His cloak of black all piled and quite foworn,  
Wring his hands, and Fortune oft doth blame,  
Which of a Duke hath made him now her scorn.  
With ghastly looks as one in manner lost:  
Oft spread his arms, stretched hands he joins as fast  
With rueful cheer, and vapored eyes upcasted.   

His cloak he rend, his manly breast he beat,  
His hair all torn about the place it lay,  
My heart so moult to see his grief so great,  
As feelingly me thought it dropped away:  
His eyes they whurld about withouten stay.  
With stormy sighs the place did so complain,  
As if his heart at each had burst in twain.   

Thrice he began to tell his doleful tale,  
And thrice the sighs did swallow up his voice:  
At each of which he shrieked so withal,  
As though the heavens rived with the noise:  
Till at the last recovering his voice,  
Supping the tears that all his breast beraind,  
On cruel Fortune weeping thus he plained.   
FINIS.   

HOW THE TWO Rogers', surnamed Mortimers, for their sundry vices, ended their lives unfortunately, the one, An. 1329. the other, 1387.  

AMong the riders of the rolling wheel  
That lost their holds, Baldwine forget not me,  
Whose fatal thread false Fortune needs would reel,  
Ere it were twisted by the sister's three:  
All folk be frail, their blisses brittle be:  
For proof whereof, although none other were,  
Suffice may I, Sir Roger Mortimer.   

Not he that was in Edward's days the third,  
Whom Fortune brought to boot and eft to bale,  
With love of whom, the king so much she stirred,  
That none but he was heard in any tale:  
And whiles she smooth blue on this pleasant gale,  
He was created Earl of March, alas,  
Whence envy sprang which his destruction was.   

For wealth breeds wrath, in such as wealth do want,  
Pride folly breeds in such as it possess,  
Among a thousand shall you find one scant,  
That can in wealth his lofty heart repress,  
Which in this Earl due proof did plain express:  
For whereas he was somewhat haut before,  
His high degree hath made him now much more.   

For now alone he ruleth as him lust,  
Ne recks for read, save of king Edward's mother:  
Which forced envy foulder out the rust,  
That in men's hearts before did lie and smother.  
The Peers, the people, th' one as well as th' other,  
Against him made so heinous a complaint,  
That for a traitor he was soon attaint.   

Then all such faults as were forgot afore,  
They scour afresh, and somewhat to them add:  
For envy still hath eloquence in store,  
When Fortune bids to worse things meanly bad.  
Five heinous crimes against him soon were had,  
First that he caused the King to yield the Scot,  
To make a peace, towns that were from him got:   

And therewithal the Charter called Ragman,  
That of the Scots he bribed privy gain,  
That through his means sir Edward of Carnarvan  
In Barkely Castle traitorously was slain:  
That with his Prince's mother he had lain,  
And finally, with polling at his pleasure,  
Had robbed the King and Commons of their treasure.   

For these things lo which erst were out of mind  
He was condemned, and hanged at the last,  
In whom Dame Fortune fully showed her kind,  
For whom she heaves she hurleth down as fast.  
If men to come, would learn by other past,  
My cousin then might cause them set aside  
High climbing, bribing, murdering, lust, and pride.   

The final cause why I this process tell,  
Is that I may be known from this the other,  
My like in name, unlike me though he fell,  
Which was I think my grandfire or his brother:  
To count my kin, dame Philip was my mother,  
Daughter and heir of douty Lionel,  
The third King Edward's son, as stories tell.   

My father hight sir Edmund Mortimer,  
True Earl of March, whence I was after Earl,  
By just descent these two my parents were,  
Of which the one of Knighthood bore the fearle,  
Of womanhood the other was the pearl:  
Through their desert so called of every wight,  
Till death them took, and left me in their right.   

For why th' attainter of the elder Roger,  
(Whose shameful death I told you but oflate)  
Was found to be unjust, and passed over,  
Against the law, by those that bore him hate:  
For where by law each one of free estate  
Should personally be heard ere judgement pass,  
They barred him this, where through destroyed he was.   

Wherefore by doom of court in Parliament,  
When we had proved our Cousin ordered thus,  
The King, the Lords, and Commons of assent  
His lawless death unlawful did discuss:  
And both to blood and good restored us.  
A preside at most worthy, showed, and left,  
Lords lives to save, that lawless might be reft.   

While Fortune unto me her grace did deign,  
King Richard's grace the second of that name,  
(Whose loser life did soon abridge his reign,)  
Made me his mate in earnest and in game:  
The Lords themselves so well allowed the same,  
That through my titles duly coming down,  
I was made heir apparent to the Crown.   

Who then but I was every where esteemed,  
Well was the man that might with me acquaint,  
Whom I allowed, as Lords the people deemed,  
To whatsoever folly had me bend,  
To like it well the people did assent:  
To me as Prince attended great and small,  
I hoped a day would come to pay for all.   

But seldom joy continueth trouble void,  
In greatest charge cares greatest do ensue,  
The most possessed are ever most annoyed,  
In largest seas sore tempests lightly brew,  
The freshest colours soon fade the hue,  
In thickest place is made the deepest wound,  
True proof whereof myself too soon have found.   

For whilst fair Fortune juld me in her lap,  
And gave me gifts more than I did require,  
The subtle dame behind me set a trap,  
Whereby to dash and lay all in the mire:  
The Irish men against me did conspire,  
My lands of Ulster from me to have reft,  
Which heritage my mother had me left.   

And whiles I there, to set all things in stay,  
(Omit my toils and trouble thitherward)  
Among mine own with my retinue lay,  
The wilder men whom I did not regard,  
(And had therefore the reckless man's reward)  
When least I thought, set on me in such number,  
That from my corpse my life they rend asunder.   

Nought might avail my courage nor my force,  
Nor strength of men which were (alas) too few:  
The cruel folk assaulted so my horse,  
That all my helps in pieces they to hew.  
Our blood distaines the ground as drops of dew,  
Nought might prevail to fly nor yet to yield,  
For whom they take they murder in the field.   

They know no law of Arms, nor none will learn,  
They make not war (as other do) a play:  
The Lord, the boy, the Gallowglas, the Kern,  
Yield or not yield, whom so they take they slay.  
They save no foes for ransom nor for pay:  
Their chiefest boot is th' adversaries head,  
They end not w●●●e till th' enemy be dead.   

Amongst these men or rather savage beasts  
I lost my life, by cruel murder slain:  
And therefore Baldwine note thou well my geasts,  
And warn all Prince's rashness to refrain:  
Bid them beware their foes when they do fain,  
Nor yet presume unequally to strive:  
Had I thus done, I had been left alive.   

But I despised the naked Irish men,  
And, for they flew, I feared them the less:  
I thought one man enough to match with ten,  
And through this careless unadvisedness  
I was destroyed, and all my men I guess,  
At unawares assaulted by our fone,  
Which were in number forty to us one.   

See here the stay of fortunate estate,  
The vain assurance of this brittle life:  
For I but yong-proclamed Prince of late,  
Right fortunate in children and in wife,  
Lost all at once by stroke of bloody knife:  
Whereby assured let men themselves assure,  
That wealth and life are doubtful to endure.   
FINIS.   

THE FALL OF ROBERT Tresilian chief justice of England, and other his fellows, for misconstruing the Laws, and expounding them to serve the Prince's affections, Anno 1388.  

IN the sad register of mischief and mishap,  
Baldwine we beseech thee with our names to begin,  
Whom unfriendly Fortune did train unto a trap,  
When as we thought our state most stable to have been.  
So lightly lose they all, which all do ween to win.  
Learn by us ye Lawyers and judges of this Land,  
Upright and uncorrupt in doom always to stand.   

And print ye this precedent to remain for ever,  
enrol and record it in Tables made of Brass,  
Engrave it in Marble that may be razed never,  
Where judges of the Law may see, as in a Glass,  
What guerdon is for guile, and what our wages was,  
Who for our Princes will, corrupt with meed and awe,  
'Gainst justice wretchedly did wrest the sense of Law.   

A change more new or strange when was there ever seen,  
Then judges from the Bench to come down to the Bar,  
And counsellors that were most nigh to King and Queen  
Exiled their Country, from Court and Counsel far?  
But such is Fortune's play, which can both make and mar,  
Exalting to most high that was before most low,  
And turning tail again, the lofty down to throw.   

And such as late afore, could stoutly speak and plead  
Both in Court and Country, careless of the trial,  
As mummers mute do stand without advice or read,  
All to seek of shifting, by traverse or denial,  
Which have seen the day, when, for a golden Ryall,  
By fineness and cunning, could have made black seem white,  
And most extorted wrong to have appeared right.   

Whilst thus on bench above we had the highest place,  
Our reasons were too strong, for any to confute:  
But when at bar beneath, we came to plead our case,  
Our wits were in the wane, our pleading very brute.  
Hard it is for prisoners with judges to dispute:  
When all men against one, and none for one shall speak,  
Who weens himself most wise, may chance be too too weak.   

To you therefore that sit, these few words will I say,  
That no man sits so sure, but he may haply stand:  
Wherefore whilst you have place, and bear the swing and sway,  
By favour without force, let points of Law be skand.  
Pity the poor prisoner that holdeth up his hand,  
Ne lad him not with law, who least of law hath known,  
Remember ere ye die, the case may be your own.   

Behold me one unfortunate amongst this flock,  
Tresilian called sometime chief justice of this Land,  
A gentleman by birth, no stain was in my stock,  
Locketon, Holte, Belknap; with other of my band,  
Which the Law and justice had wholly in our hand,  
Under the second Richarda Prince of great state,  
To whom and us also, blind Fortune gave the mate.   

In all our Common Laws our skill was so profound,  
Our credit and authority such and so high esteemed,  
That what we did conclude, was taken for a ground,  
Allowed was for Law what so to us best seemed,  
Both life, death, lands, and goods, and all by us was deemed:  
Whereby with easy pain, great gain we did in fet,  
And every thing was fish, that came unto our net.   

At Sessions and Assizes, we bore the stroke and sway,  
In patents and commission, of Quorum still chief:  
So that to whether side soever we did way,  
Were it by right or wrong, it past without reprieve.  
The true man we let hang some while to save a thief,  
Of Gold, and of Silver, our hands were never empty,  
Offices, Farms, and Fees, fell to us in great plenty.   

But what thing may suffice unto the greedy man?  
The more he hath in hold, the more he doth desire:  
Happy and twice happy is he, that wisely can  
Content himself with that, which reason doth require,  
And moileth for no more than for his needful hire:  
But greediness of mind doth seldom keep the size,  
To whom enough and more doth never well suffice.   

For like as dropsy patients drink and still be dry,  
Whose vnstanch'st greedy thirst no liquor can allay,  
And drink they near so much, yet thirst they by and by;  
So catchers and snatchers do toil both night and day,  
Not needy, but greedy, still prowling for their prey.  
O endless thirst of gold, corrupter of all laws,  
What mischief is on mould whereof thou art not cause?   

Thou madest us forget the saith of our profession,  
When Sergeants we were sworn to serve the common law,  
Which was, that in no point we should make digression  
From approved principles, in sencence nor in saw:  
But we unhappy wights without all dread and awe  
Of the judge eternal, for world's vain promotion,  
More to man then God did bear our whole devotion.   

The Laws we did interpret and statutes of the Land,  
Not truly by the text, but newly by a gloze:  
And words that were most plain, when they by us were skand,  
We turned by construction to a Welshman's hose,  
Whereby many a one both life and land did lose:  
Yet this we made our mean to mount aloft on mules,  
And serving times and turns, perverted laws and rules.   

Thus climbing and contending always to the top,  
From high unto higher, and then to be most high,  
The honey dew of Fortune so fast on us did drop,  
That of King Richard's counsel we came to be most nigh:  
Whose favour to attain we were full fine and fly.  
Always to his profit where any thing might sound,  
That way (all were it wrong) the laws we did expound.   

So working Law like wax, the subject was not sure  
Of life, of land, nor goods, but at the Princes will,  
Which caused his kingdom the shorter time to dure:  
For claiming power absolute both to save and spill,  
The Prince thereby presumed his people for to pill,  
And set his lusts for Law, and will had reasons place,  
No more but hang and draw, there was no better grace.   

Thus the King outleaping the limits of his Law,  
Not reigning but raging, as youth did him entice,  
Wise and worthy persons from Court did daily draw,  
Sage counsel set at nought, proud vanters were in price,  
And roisters bore the rule, which wasted all in vice:  
Of riot and excess, grew scarcity and lack,  
Of lacking came taxing, and so went wealth to wrack.   

The Barons of the Land not bearing this abuse,  
Conspiring with the Commons assembled by assent,  
And seeing neither reason nor treaty could induce  
The King in any thing his rigour to relent,  
Maugre his Kingly might they called a Parliament,  
Frank and free for all men without check to debate  
As well for weal public, as for the Prince's state.   

In this high assembly, great things were proponed  
Touching the Prince's state, his regalty and crown,  
By reason that the King (which much was to be moved)  
Without regard at all of honour or renown,  
Misled by ill advice, had turned all upside down,  
For surety of whose state, them thought it did behove  
His counsellors corrupt by reason to remove:   

Among whom, Robert Veer, called Duke of Ireland,  
With Michael Delapole of Suffolk new made Earl,  
Of York also then Archbishop, dispatched out of hand,  
With Brembre of London a full uncourteous churl:  
Some learned in the Law in exile they did hurl:  
But I poor Tresilian (because I was the chief)  
Was damned to the gallows most vilely as a thief.   

Lo the fine of falsehood, stipend of corruption,  
The fee of double fraud, the fruits it doth procure:  
Ye judges upon earth, let our just punition  
Teach you to shake off bribes, and keep your hands still pure.  
Riches and promotion be vain things and unsure,  
The favour of a Prince is an untrusty stay,  
But justice hath a fee that shall remain always.   

What glory can be greater before God or man,  
Then by paths of justice in judgement to proceed?  
So duly and so truly the Laws for to scan,  
That right may take his place without regard or meed.  
Set apart all flattery and vain worldly dread,  
Set God before your eyes, the most just judge supreme,  
Remember well your reckoning at the day extreme.   

Abandon all affray, be soothfast in your saws,  
Be constant and careless of mortals displeasure,  
With eyes shut and hands close you should pronounce the laws.  
Esteem not worldly goods, think there is a treasure  
More worth than gold a thousand times in valour,  
Reposed for all such as righteousness ensue,  
Whereof you cannot fail, the promise made is true.   

If judges in our days would ponder well in mind  
The fatal fall of us, for wresting Law and right,  
Such statutes as touch life should not be thus defined.  
By senses constrained, against true meaning quite,  
As well they might affirm the black for to be white:  
Wherefore we wish they would our act and end compare,  
And weighing well the case, they will we trust beware.   G. Ferrer.  

HOW SIR THOMAS OF WOODSTOCK DUKE OF Gloucester, uncle to King Richard the second, was unlawfully murdered, An. Dom. 1397.  

WHose state stablished is, in seeming most sure,  
And so far from danger of Fortune's blasts,  
As by the compass of man's conjecture,  
No brazen pillar may be fixed more fast:  
Yet wanting the stay of prudent forecast,  
When froward Fortune list for to frown,  
May in a moment turn upside down.   

In proof whereof, O Baldwine, take pain,  
To hearken a while to Thomas of Woodstock,  
Address in presence his fate to complain,  
In the forlorn hope of English flock:  
Extract by descent from the royal stock,  
Son to King Edward, third of that name,  
And second to none in glory and fame.   

This noble father to maintain my state,  
With Buckingham Earldom did me endow,  
Both Nature and Fortune to me were great,  
Denying me nought which they might allow:  
Their sundry graces in me did so flow,  
As beauty, strength, high favour and fame,  
Who may of God more wish then the same?   

Brothers we were to the number of seven,  
I being the sixth, and youngest but one:  
A more royal race was not under heaven,  
More stout or more stately of stomach and person,  
Princes all peerless in each condition:  
Namely Sir Edward, called the black Prince,  
When had England the like before or since?   

But what of all this, any man t'assure,  
In state uncareful of Fortune's variance?  
Sith daily and hourly we see it in ure,  
That where most cause is of affiance,  
Even there is found most weak assurance.  
Let none trust Fortune, but follow reason:  
For often we see in trust is treason.   

This proverb in proof over true I tried,  
Finding high treason in place of high trust:  
And most fault of faith where I most affied,  
Being, by them that should have been just,  
Traitorously entrapped, ere I could mistrust.  
Ah wretched world what it is to trust thee,  
Let them that will learn now hearken to me.   

After King Edward the thirds decease,  
Succeeded my nephew Richard to reign,  
Who for his glory and honours increase,  
With princely wages did me entertain,  
Against the Frenchmen to be his Chieftain.  
So passing the seas with royal puissance,  
With God and S. George I invaded France.   

Wasting the country with sword and with fire,  
overturning towns, high castles and towers,  
Like Mars god of war inflamed with ire  
I forced the Frenchmen t' abandon their bowers:  
Where ever we marched I won at all hours,  
In such wise visiting both city and village,  
That always my soldiers were laden with pillage.   

With honour and triumph was my return,  
Was none more joyous than young King Richard:  
Who minding more highly my state to adorn,  
With Gloucester Dukedom did me reward:  
And after in marriage I was preferred  
To a daughter of Bohun an Earl honourable,  
By whom I was of England high Constable.   

Thus hoist high on Fortune's wheel,  
As one on a stage attending a play,  
Seeth not on which side the scaffold doth reel,  
Till timber and poles and all fly away:  
So fared it by me: for day by day,  
As honour increased I looked still higher,  
Not seeing the danger of my fond desire.   

For Fortune's flood thus running with full stream,  
And I a Duke descended of great Kings,  
Constable of England, chief officer of the Realm,  
Abused with desperance in these vain things,  
I went without feet, and flew without wings,  
Presuming so far upon my high state,  
That dread set apart, my Prince I would mate.   

For whereas Kings have counsel of their choice,  
To whom they refer the rule of their Land,  
With certain familiars in whom to rejoice,  
For pleasure or profit, as the case shall stand,  
I not bearing this, would needs take in hand,  
Maugre his will, those persons to disgrace,  
And for to settle others in their place.   

But as an old book saith, who will assay  
About the Cat's neck to hang on a bell,  
Had first need to cut the Cat's claws away,  
Lest if the Cat be cursed, and not tamed well,  
She with her nails may claw him to the fell:  
So putting the bell about the Cat's neck,  
I unadvised caught a cruel check.   

Read well the sentence of the Rat renowned,  
Which Pierce the ploughman describes in his dream,  
And whoso hath wit the sense to expound,  
Shall find that to curb the Prince of a Ream,  
Is even (as who saith) to strive with the stream:  
Note this all subjects, and construe it well,  
And busy not your brains 'bout the Cat's bell.   

But in that ye be Liege's learn t'obey,  
Submitting your wills to your Prince's Laws:  
It fits not a subject t'have his own way,  
Remember this proverb of the Cat's claws:  
For Princes like Lions have long large paws  
That reach at random, and whom they once twitch,  
They claw to the bone before the skin itch.   

But to my purpose, I being once bend,  
Towards the achieving of my attemptate,  
Four bold Barons were of mine assent,  
By oath and alliance fastly confederate:  
First Henry of Derby an Earl of estate,  
Richard of Arundel, and Thomas of Warwick,  
With Mowbray the Marshal, a man most warlike.   

At Ratecote Bridge assembled our band,  
The Commons in clusters came to us that day  
To daunt Robert Veer, than Duke of Ireland,  
By whom King Richard was ruled always:  
We put him to flight, and broke his array,  
Then maugre the King, his leave or assent,  
We by our power did call a Parliament.   

Where not in Robes, but with our Baslards bright,  
We came to parley of the public weal,  
Confirming our quarrel with main and might,  
With swords and no words we tried our appeal,  
In stead of reason declaring out zeal,  
And whom so we knew, with the King in grace,  
We plainly deprived of power and place.   

Some with short process were banished the Land,  
Some executed with capital pain,  
Whereof whoso list, the whole t'understand,  
In the Parliament roll it appeareth plain,  
And further how stoutly we did the King strain,  
The rule of his Realm wholly to resign,  
To the order of those, whom we did assign.   

But note the sequel of such presumption,  
After we had these miracles wrought,  
The King inflamed with in dignation,  
That to such bondage he should be brought,  
Suppressing the ire of his inward thought,  
Studied nought else but how that he might  
Be highly revenged of this high despite.   

Aggrieved was also this latter offence,  
With former matter his ire to renew:  
For once at Windsor I brought to his presence  
The Mayor of London with all his retinue,  
To ask a reckoning of the realms revenue:  
And the soldiers of Breast by me were made bold,  
Their wages to claim when the town was sold.   

These griefs remembered with all the remnant,  
Hourded in his heart hate out of measure,  
Yet openly in show made he no femblant,  
By word or by deed to bear displeasure:  
But love days dissembled do never endure,  
And whoso trusteth a foe reconciled,  
Is for the most part always beguiled.   

For as fire ill quenched will up at a start,  
And sores not well salved do break out of new,  
So hatred hidden in an ireful heart,  
Where it hath had long season to brew,  
Upon every occasion doth easily renew:  
Not failing at last, if it be not let,  
To pay large usury besides the due det.   

Even so it fared by this friendship feigned,  
Outwardly sound, and inwardly rotten:  
For when the King's favour in seeming was gained,  
All old displeasures forgiven and forgotten,  
Even then at a sudden the shaft was shotten,  
Which pierced my heart void of mistrust;  
Alas that a Prince should be so unjust.   

For lying at Plashey myself to repose,  
By reason of sickness which held me full sore,  
The King espying me apart from those,  
With whom I confedered in band before,  
Thought it not meet to tract the time more,  
But glad to take me at such advantage,  
Came to salute me with friendly visage.   

Who having a band bound to his bent,  
By colour of kindness to visit his eme,  
took time to accomplish his cruel intent:  
And in a small vessel down by the stream,  
Conveyed me to Calis out of the Realm,  
Where without process or doom of my Peers,  
Not nature but murder abridged my years.   

This act was odious to God and to man,  
Yet rigour to cloak in habit of reason,  
By crafty compass devise they can,  
Articles nine of right heinous treason:  
But doom after death is sure out of season,  
For who ever saw so strange a precedent,  
As execution done before judgement.   

Thus hate harboured in depth of mind,  
By sought occasion burst out of new,  
And cruelty abused the law of kind,  
When that the Nephew the Uncle flew.  
Alas King Richard, sore mayst thou rue,  
Which by this fact preparedst the way  
Of thy hard destiny to hasten the day.   

For blood asketh blood as guerdon due,  
And vengeance for vengeance is just reward:  
O righteous God thy judgements are true:  
For look what measure we other award,  
The same for us again is prepared.  
Take heed ye Princes by examples past,  
Blood will have blood, either first or last.   G. Ferrer.  

HOW THE LORD MOWbrey, promoted by King Richard the second to the state of a Duke, was by him banished the Realm the year of Christ, 1398. and after died miserably in exile.  

THough sorrow and shame abash me to rehearse  
My loathsome life, and death of due deserved,  
Yet that the pains thereof may other pierce  
To leave the like, lest they be likewise served:  
Ah Baldwine mark, and see how that I swerved.  
Dissembling, envy, and flattery, bane that be,  
Of all their hosts, have show'd their power on me.   

I blame not Fortune, though she did her part,  
And true it is she can do little harm:  
She guideth goods, she hampreth not the heart,  
A mind well bend, is safe from every charm.  
Vice, only vice, with her stout strengthless arm,  
Doth cause the heart from good to ill incline,  
Which I, alas, do find too true by mine.   

For where by birth I came of noble race,  
The Mowbreys' heir, a famous house and old,  
Fortune I thank, gave me so good a grace,  
That of my Prince I had what so I would:  
Yet neither was to other greatly hold.  
For I thought flattery wronged his want on youth,  
And his fond trust augmented my untruth.   

He made me first the Earl of Nottingham,  
And Marshal of the Realm, in which estate  
The Peers and people jointly to me came,  
With sore complaint, against them that of late  
Bad officers had brought the King in hate,  
By making sale of justice, right, and Law,  
And living nought, without all dread or awe.   

I gave them aid these evils to redress,  
And went to London with an army strong,  
And caused the King, against his will oppress  
By cruel death, all such as led him wrong:  
The Lord chief justice suffered these among,  
So did the Steward of his household head,  
The Chancellor scaped, for he afore had fled.   

These wicked men thus from the King removed,  
Who best us pleased succeeded in their place:  
For which both King and Commons much us loved,  
But chiefly I with all stood high in grace.  
The King ensued my read in every case,  
Whence self-love bred: for glory maketh proud,  
And pride aye seeks alone to be allowed.   

Wherefore to th' end I might alone enjoy  
The King's good will, I made his lust my law:  
And where of late I laboured to destroy  
Such flattering folk, as thereto stood in awe,  
Now learned I among the rest to claw:  
For pride is such, if it be kindly caught,  
As stroyeth good, and stirs up every nought.   

Pride pricketh men to flatter for the pray,  
Toppresse and poll for maintenance of the same,  
To malice such as match uneths it may:  
And to be brief, pride doth the heart inflame,  
To fire what mischief any fraud may frame,  
And still at length the evils by it wrought  
Confound the worker, and bring him to nought.   

Behold in me due proof of every part:  
For pride first forced me my Prince to flatter  
So much, that whatsoever pleased his heart  
Were't near so ill, I thought a lawful matter,  
Which caused the Lords afresh against him clatter:  
Because he had his holds beyond sea sold,  
And seen his soldiers of their wages bold.   

Though unto all these ills I were a friend,  
Yet such was luck that each man deemed no:  
The Duke of Gloucester for me did send,  
With other Lords, whose hearts did bleed for woe,  
To see the Realm so fast to ruin go.  
In fault whereof, they said the two Dukes were,  
The one of York, the other Lancaster.   

On whose remove from being about the King  
We all agreed, and swore a solemn oath,  
And whilst the rest provided for this thing,  
I flatterer I, to win the praise of troth,  
Wretch that I was, broke faith and promise both:  
For I bewrayed to th' King their whole intent,  
For which unwares they all were ta'en and shent.   

Thus was the warder of the Common weal,  
The Duke of Gloster guiltless made away,  
With other more, more wretch I so to deal,  
Who through untruth their trust did ill betray:  
Yet by this means obtained I may pray,  
Of King and Dukes I found for this such favour,  
As made me Duke of Norfolk for my labour.   

But see how pride and envy jointly run,  
Because my Prince did more than me prefer,  
Sir Henry Bolenbroke, the eldest son  
Of john of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster,  
Proud I that would alone be blazing star,  
Envied this Duke, for nought save that the shine  
Of his deserts did glister more than mine.   

To th' end therefore his light should be the less,  
I slily sought all shifts to put him out:  
But as the poise that would the palm repress,  
Doth cause the bows spread larger round about;  
So spite and envy causeth glory sprout,  
And aye the more the top is overtrod,  
The deeper doth the sound root spread abroad.   

For when this Henry Duke of Herford saw,  
What spoil the King made of the noble blood,  
And that without all justice, cause, or law,  
To suffer him, he thought not sure nor good:  
Wherefore to me twofaced in one hood,  
As touching this, he fully broke his mind,  
As to his friend that should remedy find.   

But I, although I knew my Prince did ill,  
So that my heart abhorred sore the same,  
Yet mischief so through malice led my will,  
To bring this Duke from honour unto shame,  
And toward myself, my sovereign to inflame,  
That I bewrayed his word unto the King,  
Not as a read, but as a heinous thing.   

Thus where my duty bound me to have told  
My Prince his fault, and willed him to refrain,  
Through flattery lo, I did his ill uphold,  
Which turned at length both him and me to pain:  
Woe, woe to Kings whose counsellors do fain,  
Woe, woe to Realms where such are put in trust,  
As leave the Law, to serve the Prince's lust.   

And woe to him that by his flattering reed,  
Maintains a Prince in any kind of vice:  
Woe worth him eke for envy, pride or meed,  
That misreports an honest enterprise.  
Because I beast in all these points was nice,  
The plagues of all together on me light,  
And due for ill, ill doers doth acquit.   

For when the Duke was charged with my plaint,  
He flat denied that any part was true,  
And claimed by arms to answer his attaint,  
And I by use that warlike feats well knew,  
To his desire incontinently drew:  
Wherewith the King did seem right well content,  
As one that passed not much with whom it went.   

At time and place appointed we appeared,  
At all points armed to prove our quarrels just,  
And when our friends on each part had us cheered,  
And that the Heralds bade us do our lust,  
With spear in rest we took a course to just:  
But ere our horses had run half their way,  
A shout was made, the King commanded stay.   

And for t'avoid the shedding of our blood  
With shame and death, which one must needs have had,  
The King through counsel of the Lords thought good  
To banish both, which judgement strait was rad;  
No marvel then though both were wroth and sad,  
But chiefly I that was exiled for aye,  
My enemy stranged but for a ten years day.   

The date expired, when by this doleful doom  
I should depart, to live in banished band,  
On pain of death to England not to come,  
I went my way: the King seized in his hand  
Mine offices, my honours, goods and land,  
To pay the due (as openly he told)  
Of mighty sums, which I had from him pol'd.   

See, Baldwine, see, the solary of sin,  
Mark with that meed vile vices are rewarded:  
Through envy I did lose both kith and kin,  
And for my flattering plaint so well regarded,  
Exile and shame are justly me awarded:  
My wife and heir lack lands and lawful right,  
And me their Lord made Dame Diana's Knight.   

If these mishaps at home be not enough,  
adjoin to them my sorrows in exile:  
I went to Almain first, a Land right rough,  
In which I found such churlish folk and vile,  
As made me loath my life each other while:  
There lo I learned what is to be a gest  
Abroad, and what to live at home in rest.   

For they esteem no one man more than each,  
They use as well the lackey as the Lord,  
And like their manners churlish in their speech,  
Their lodging hard, their board to be abhorred:  
Their pleated garments therewith well accord,  
All iaged and frounced, with divers colours decked,  
They swear, they curse, and drink till they be fleckt.   

They hate all such as these their manners hate,  
Which reason would no wise man should allow:  
With these I dwelled, lamenting mine estate,  
Till at the length they had got knowledge, how  
I was exiled, because I did avow  
A false complaint against my trusty friend,  
For which they named me traitor still unhend:   

That what for shame and what for weariness  
I stole from thence, and went to Venice town,  
Whereas I found more ease and friendliness,  
But greater grief: for now the great renown  
Of Bolenbroke whom I would have put down,  
Was waxed so great in Britain and in France,  
That Vencie through, each man did him advance.   

Thus lo his glory grew through great despite,  
And I thereby increased in defame:  
Thus envy ever doth her most acquit  
With trouble, anguish, sorrow, smart and shame,  
But sets the virtues of her foe in flame:  
Like water waves which cleanse the muddy stone,  
And soils themselves by beating thereupon.   

Or ere I had sojourned there a year,  
Strange tidings came he was to England gone,  
Had ta'en the King, and that which touched him near,  
Imprisoned him with other of his fone,  
And made him yield him up his Crown and throne:  
When I these things for true by search had tried,  
Grief gripped me so, I pined away and died.   

Note here the end of pride, see flatteries fine,  
Mark the reward of envy and complaint,  
And warn all people from them to decline,  
Lest likely fault do find the like attaint.  
Let this my life to them be a restraint:  
By others harms who listeth take no heed,  
Shall by his own learn other better reed.   T. Churchyard.  

HOW KING RICHARD THE SECOND WAS FOR HIS evil governance deposed from his seat, in the year 1399. and murdered in prison the year following.  

Happy is the Prince, that hath in wealth the grace  
To follow virtue, keeping vices under;  
But woe to him whose will hath wisdoms place:  
For whoso renteth right and law asunder,  
On him at length all the world shall wonder.  
High birth, choice fortune, force, nor Princely mace,  
Can warrant King or kaiser from the case.   

Behold my hap, see how the silly rout  
On me do gaze, and each to other say:  
See where he lieth, but late that was so stout,  
Lo how the power, the pride, and rich array  
Of mighty Rulers lightly fade away.  
The King which erst kept all the Realm in doubt,  
The veriest rascal now dare check and flout.   

Me think I hear the people thus devise:  
Wherefore Baldwine, sith thou wilt declare  
How Princes fell, to make the living wise,  
My lawless life in no point see thou spare,  
But paint it out, that Rulers may beware  
Good counsel, law, or virtue to despise,  
For Realms have rules, and Rulers have a size.   

I was a King, who ruled all by lust,  
Forcing but light of justice, right, or Law,  
Putting always flatterers false in trust,  
Ensuing such as could my vices claw,  
By faithful counsel passing not an haw,  
As pleasure pricked, so needs obey I must,  
Having delight to feed and serve the gust:   

Which to maintain, my people were sore pol'd  
With Fines, fifteens, and loans by way of priest,  
Blank Charters, oaths, and shifts not known of old,  
For which the Commons did me sore detest.  
I also sold the noble town of Breast,  
My fault wherein because mine uncle told,  
I found the means that he to death was sold.   

None aid I lacked in any wicked deed,  
For gaping Gulls whom I promoted had  
Would further all in hope of higher meed.  
There can no King imagine aught so bad,  
But shall find some that will perform it glad:  
For sickness seldom doth so swiftly breed,  
As humours ill do grow the grief to feed.   

My life and death the truth of this hath tried:  
For while I fought in Ireland with my foes,  
Mine uncle Edmund whom I left to guide  
My Realm at home, rebelliously arose  
Percies to help, which plied my depose:  
And called from France Earl Bolenbroke, whom I  
Exiled had for ten years there to lie.   

For coming back this sudden stur to stay,  
The Earl of Worster whom I trusted most,  
(Whiles I in Wales at Flint my castle lay,  
Both to refresh and multiply mine host)  
There in my hall, in sight of least and most,  
His staff did break, which was my household stay,  
Bade each make shift, and road himself away.   

My Steward false thus being fled and gone,  
My servants sly shrank off on every side,  
Then caught I was and led unto my fone,  
Who for their Prince no Palace did provide,  
But prison strong, where Henry puffed with pride  
Caused me resign my Kingly state and throne,  
And so forsaken left and post alone.   

Yet some conspired their new King to put down,  
And to that end a solemn oath they swore,  
To render me my royal seat and Crown,  
Whereof themselves deprived me before.  
But late medicines can help no sothbind sore:  
When swelling floods have overflown the town,  
Too late it is to save them that shall drown:   

For though the Peers set Henry in his state,  
Yet could they not displace him thence again:  
And where they soon deprived me of late,  
They could restore me by no manner pain.  
Things hardly mend, but may be marred amain,  
And when a man is fallen in froward fate,  
Still mischiefs light one on another's pate.   

For when the King did know that for my cause,  
His Lords in mask would kill him on a night,  
To dash all doubts he took no farther pause,  
But Pierce of Exton a cruel murdering Knight  
To Pomfret castle sent him armed bright,  
Who causeless killed me there against all laws,  
Thus lawless life to lawless death aye draws.   G. Ferrer.  

HOW OWEN GLENDOUR SEDUCED BY FALSE PROPHECIES, took upon him to be Prince of Wales, and was by Henry Prince of England chased to the Mountains, where he miserably died for lack of food, An. 1401.  

I Pray thee Baldwine sith thou dost intend  
To show the fall of such as climb too high,  
Remember me, whose miserable end  
May teach a man his vicious life to fly.  
Oh Fortune, Fortune, out on thee I cry:  
My lively corpse thou hast made lean and slender,  
For lack of food, whose name was Owen Glendour.   

A Welshman borne, and of the Trojan blood,  
But ill brought up, whereby full well I find,  
That neither birth nor lineage make us good,  
Though it be true that Cat will after kind.  
Flesh gendereth flesh, but not the soul or mind,  
They gender not, but foully do degender,  
When men to vice from virtue them surrender.   

Each thing by nature tendeth to the same  
Whereof it came, and is disposed like:  
Down sinks the mould, up mounts the fiery flame,  
With horn the Hart, with hoof the Horse doth strike,  
The Wolf doth spoil, the subtle Fox doth pike,  
And to conclude, no fish, flesh, fowl or plant,  
Of their true dame the property doth want.   

But as for men, sith severally they have  
A mind, whose manners are by learning made,  
Good bringing up all only doth them save  
In honest acts, which with their parents fade:  
So that true gentry standeth in the trade  
Of vertuouslife, not in the fleshly line:  
For blood is brute, but gentry is divine.   

Experience doth cause me thus to say,  
And that the rather for my countrymen,  
Which vaunt and boast themselves above the day,  
If they may strain their stock from worthy men:  
Which let be true, are they the better then?  
Nay far the worse, if so they be not good,  
For why, they stain the beauty of their blood.   

How would we mock the burden-bearing mule,  
If he would brag he were an horses son,  
To press his pride (might nothing else him rule)  
His boasts to prove no more but bid him run:  
The horse for swiftness hath his glory won.  
The bragging mule could near the more aspire,  
Though he should prove that Pegas was his sire.   

Each man may crack of that which was his own,  
Our parents good is theirs, and no whit ours:  
Who therefore will of noble birth be known,  
Or shine in virtue like his ancestors,  
Gentry consisteth not in lands and towers:  
He is a churl though all the world were his,  
Yea Arthur's heir if that he live amiss.   

For virtuous life a Gentleman doth make  
Of her possessor, all be he poor as job,  
Yea though no name of elders he can take:  
For proof take Merlin fathered by an Hob.  
But who so sets his mind to spoil and rob,  
Although he come by due descent from Brute,  
He is a churl, ungentle, vile, and brute.   

Well, thus did I for want of better wit,  
Because my parents naughtily brought me up:  
For Gentlemen (they said) was nought so fit,  
As to attast by bold attempts the cup  
Of conquest's wine, whereof I thought to sup:  
And therefore bend myself to rob and rive,  
And whom I could of lands and goods deprive.   

Henry the fourth did then usurp the Crown,  
Despoiled the King, with Mortimer the heir:  
For which his subjects sought to put him down,  
And I while Fortune offered me so fair,  
Did what I might his honour to appair:  
And took on me to be the Prince of Wales,  
Entiste thereto by Prophecies and tales.   

For which, such mates as wait upon the spoil,  
From every part of Wales unto me drew:  
For loitering youth untaught in any toil,  
Are ready aye all mischief to ensue.  
Through help of these so great my glory grew,  
That I defied my King through lofty heart,  
And made sharp war on all that took his part.   

See luck, I took Lord Raynold Grace of Rithen,  
And him enforced my daughter to espouse,  
And so perforce I held him still, and sithen  
In Wigmore land through battle rigorous,  
I caught the right heir of the crowned house,  
The Earl of March Sir Edmund Mortimer,  
And in a dungeon kept him prisoner.   

Then all the Marches longing unto Wales,  
By Severne West I did invade and burn:  
Destroyed the towns in mountains and in vales,  
And rich in spoils did homeward safe return:  
Was none so bold durst once against me spurn.  
Thus prosperously doth Fortune forward call,  
Those whom she minds to give the sorest fall.   

When same had brought these tidings to the King,  
(Although the Scots then vexed him right sore)  
A mighty army 'gainst me he did bring:  
Where of the French King being warned afore,  
Who mortal hate against King Henry bore,  
To grieve our foe he quickly to me sent  
Twelve thousand Frenchmen, unto the fight all bend.   

A part of them led by the Earl of March,  
Lord james of Bourbon, a renowned Knight,  
Withheld by winds to Wales-ward forth to march,  
took land at Plymouth privily on night:  
And when he had done all he durst or might,  
After that many of his men were slain,  
He stole to ship and sailed home again.   

Twelve thousand more in Milford did arrive,  
And came to me then lying at Denbigh:  
With armed Welshmen thousands double five,  
With whom we went to Worcester well nigh,  
And there encamped us on a mount on high,  
T'abide the King, who shortly after came,  
And pitched down his field, hard by the same.   

There eight days long our hosts lay face to face,  
And neither others power durst assail:  
But they so stopped the passages the space,  
That victuals could not come to our avail,  
Where through constrained our hearts began to fail,  
So that the Frenchmen shrank away by night,  
And I with mine toth' mountains took our flight.   

The King pursued greatly to his cost,  
From hills to woods, from woods to valleys plain:  
And by the way his men and stuff he lost.  
And when he saw he gained nought but pain,  
He blew retreat and gate him home again:  
Then with my power I boldly came abroad,  
Taken in my country for a very god.   

Immediately there fell a jolly jar  
Between the King and Percies worthy bloods,  
Which grew at last unto a deadly war:  
For like as drops engender mighty floods,  
And little seeds sprout forth great leaves and buds;  
Even so small strises, if they be suffered run,  
Breed wrath and war, and death or they be done.   

The King would have the ransom of such Scots  
As these the Percies ta'en had in the field:  
But see how strongly Lucre knits her knots,  
The King will have, the Percies will not yield,  
Desire of goods some craves, but granteth ceil:  
Oh cursed goods, desire of you hath wrought  
All wickedness, that hath or can be thought.   

The Percies deemed it meeter for the King,  
To have redeemed their Cousin Mortimer,  
Who in his quarrel all his power did bring  
To fight with me, that took him prisoner,  
Than of their prey to rob his soldier:  
And therefore willed him see some mean were found,  
To quite forth him whom I kept vilely bound.   

Because the King misliked their request,  
They came themselves and did accord with me,  
Complaining how the Kingdom was oppressed  
By Henry's rule: wherefore we did agree  
To pluck him down, and part the Realm in three:  
The north part theirs, Wales holy to be mine,  
The rest, to rest to th' Earl of Marches line.   

And for to set us hereon more agog,  
A Prophet came (a vengeance take them all)  
Affirming Henry to be Gogmagog,  
Whom Merline doth a Mould warp ever call,  
Accursed of God that must be brought in thrall  
By a Wolf, a Dragon, and a Lion strong,  
Which should divide his Kingdom them among.   

This crafty dreamer made us three such beasts,  
To think we were the foresaid beasts, indeed:  
And for that cause our badges and our crests  
We searched out, which scarcely well agreed:  
Howbeit the Herold's apt at such a need,  
Drew down such issues from old ancestors,  
As proved these ensigns to be surely ours.   

Ye crafty Welehmen, wherefore do ye mock,  
The Noble men thus with your feigned rhymes?  
Ye Noble men, why fly ye not the flock  
Of such as have seduced so many times?  
False Prophecies are plagues for divers crimes,  
Which God doth let the devilish sort devise,  
To trouble such as are not godly wise.   

And that appeared by us three beasts indeed,  
Through false persuasion highly borne in hand,  
That in our feat we could not choose but speed,  
To kill the King and to enjoy his Land:  
For which exploit we bound ourselves in band,  
To stand contented each man with his part,  
So folly did assure our foolish heart.   

But such, they say, as fish before the net,  
Shall seldom surfeit of the pray they take:  
Of things to come the haps be so unset,  
That none but fools may warrant of them make:  
The full assured success doth oft forsake.  
For Fortune findeth none so fit to flout,  
As careless sots, which cast no kind of doubt.   

How sayst thou Henry Hotspur, do I lie,  
For thou right manly gav'st the King a field,  
And there wast slain because thou wouldst not fly:  
Thine uncle Thomas Percy forced to yield,  
Did cast his head (a wonder seen but ceil)  
From Shrewsbury town toth' top of London Bridge.  
Lo thus fond hope did both their lives abridge.   

When Henry this great victory had won,  
Destroyed the Percies, put their power to flight,  
He did appoint Prince Henry his eldest son,  
With all his power to meet me if he might:  
But I discomfit through my partners fight,  
Had not the heart to meet him face to face,  
But fled away, and he pursued the chase.   

Now Baldwine mark, for I called Prince of Wales,  
And made believe I should be he indeed,  
Was made to fly among the hills and dales,  
Where all my men forsook me at my need.  
Who trusteth loiterers ceil hath luckily speed:  
And when the captains courage doth him fail,  
His soldiers hearts a little thing may quail.   

And so Prince Henry chased me, that lo  
I found no place wherein I might abide:  
For as the dogs pursue the silly do,  
The brach behind, the hounds on every side,  
So traced they me among the mountains wide:  
Whereby I found I was the heartless hare,  
And not the beast the prophet did declare.   

And at the last: like as the little roach,  
Must else be eat, or leap upon the shore  
When as the hungry picketell doth approach,  
And there find death which it escaped before:  
So double death assaulted me so sore  
That either I must unto mine enemy yield,  
Or starve for hunger in the barren field.   

Here shame and pain a while were at a strife,  
Pain bade me yield, shame bade me rather fast:  
The one bade spare, the other bade spend my life,  
But shame (shame have it) overcame at last.  
Then hunger gnew, that doth the stone wall braced,  
And made me eat both gravel, dirt, and mud,  
And last of all, my dung, my flesh, and blood.   

This was mine end too horrible to hear,  
Yet good enough for life that was so ill,  
Where by O Baldwine warn all men to bear  
Their youth such love, to bring them up in skill.  
Bid Princes fly false prophets lying bill,  
And not presume to climb above their states:  
For they be faults that foil men, not their fates.   Th. Phaer.  

HOW HENRY PERCY Earl of NORTHUMBERLAND, was for his covetous and traitorous attempt put to death at York, Anno 1407.  

O Moral Senec true find I thy saying,  
That neither kin, riches, strength, or favour  
Are free from Fortune, but are aye decaying:  
No worldly wealth is aught save doubtful labour,  
Man's life in Earth is like unto a tabor,  
Which now to mirth doth mildly men provoke  
And strait to war, with a more sturdy stroke.   

All this full true I Percy find by proof,  
Which whilom was Earl of Northumberland.  
And therefore Baldwine for our peers behoof,  
To note men's falls sith thou hast ta'en in hand,  
I would thou should my state well understand:  
For few there were that were so much redoubted,  
Whom double Fortune lifted up and louted.   

As for my kin their nobleness is known,  
My valiant acts were folly for to praise,  
Where through our foes so oft were overthrown,  
That who but I was doubted in my days:  
And that King Richard found at all assays?  
For never foes rebelled in his reign,  
But through my force were either caught or slain.   

A brother I had was Earl of Worcester,  
Always in office and favour with the King,  
And by my wife Dame Elinor Mortimer,  
A son I had which so the foes did sting,  
That being young, and but a very spring,  
Henry Hotspur they gave him unto name,  
And though I say it, he did deserve the same.   

We three triumphed in King Richard's time,  
Till Fortune ought both him and us a spite:  
But chiefly me, whom clear from any crime,  
My King did banish from his favour quite,  
Proclaiming me a most disloyal Knight:  
Where through false slander forced me to be,  
That which before I did most deadly flee.   

Let men beware, how they true folk defame,  
Or threaten on them the blame of vices nought,  
For infamy breedeth wrath, wreak followeth shame:  
Eke open slander often times hath brought  
That to effect, that erst was never thought.  
To be misdeemed men suffer in a sort,  
But none can bear the grief of misreport.   

Because my King did shame me wrongfully,  
I hated him and soon became his foe:  
And while he did at war in Ireland lie,  
I did conspire to turn his weal to woe:  
And through the Duke of York and other more,  
All royal power from him we quickly took,  
And gave the same to Henry Bolenbrooke.   

Neither did we this only for this cause,  
But to say truth, force drove us to the same:  
For he despising God and all his laws,  
Slew whom he would, made sin a very game:  
And seeing nor age nor counsel could him tame,  
We thought it well done for the kingdoms sake,  
To leave his rule, that did all rule for sake.   

But when Sir Henry had attained his place,  
He strait became in all points worse than he,  
Destroyed the Peers, and slew King Richard's grace,  
Against his oath made to the Lords and me.  
And seeking quarrels how to disagree,  
He shamelessly required me and my son  
To yield him foes which we in field had won.   

My nephew also Edmund Mortimer,  
The very heir apparent to the crown,  
Whom Owen Glendour held as prisoner,  
With chains fast bound in dungeon deep cast down,  
He would not ransom, but did felly frown,  
'Gainst Mortimer and me which for him spoke,  
And him proclaimed traitor for our sake.   

Thus foul despite did cause us to conspire,  
To put him down, as we did Richard erst,  
And that we might this matter set on fire,  
From Owen's jail, our cousin we remerst,  
And unto Glendour all our griefs rehearsed,  
Who made a bond with Mortimer and me,  
To prive the King and part the Realm in three.   

But when King Henry heard of this device,  
To Owen Glendour he sped him very quick,  
Minding by force to stop our enterprise:  
And as the devil would, than fell I sick,  
Howbeit my brother and son more politic  
Than prosperous, with an host from Scotland brought,  
Encountered him at Shrewesbury where they fought.   

The one was ta'en and killed, the other slain,  
And shortly after was Owen put to flight:  
By means whereof I forced was to feign,  
That I knew nothing of the former fight.  
Fraud oft avails more than doth sturdy might:  
For by my feigning I brought him in belief,  
I knew not that wherein my part was chief.   

And while the King thus took me for his friend,  
I sought all means my former wrong to wreak,  
Which that I might bring to the sooner end,  
To the Bishop of York I did the matter break,  
And to th' Earl Martial likewise did I speak,  
Whose father was through Henry's cause exiled,  
The Bishop's brother with traitorous death defiled.   

These strait assented to do what they could,  
So did the Lord Hastings, and Lord Faveonbridge:  
Which altogether promised they would  
Set all their power the King's days to abridge.  
But see the spite, before the birds were flidge  
The King had word, and seized on the nest,  
Whereby alas my friends were all oppressed.   

The bloody tyrant brought them all to end,  
Excepted me, which into Scotland fled,  
To George of Dunbar th' Earl of March, my friend,  
Who in my cause with many more made head:  
And when on hope of greater aid I fed,  
Both at the Frenchmen and the Flemings hand,  
And could get none, I took such as I found.   

And with the help of George my very friend,  
I did invade Northumberland full bold,  
Whereas the folk drew to me still on end,  
Bend to death my party to uphold:  
Through help of these, full many a fort and hold,  
The which the King right manfully had man'd,  
I easily won, and seized in my hand.   

Not so content (for vengeance drove me on)  
I entered Yorkshire, there to waste and spoil:  
But ere I had far in the country gone  
The Sheriff thereof, Ralph Rokesbie did assoil  
My troubled host of much part of our toil:  
For he assaulting freshly took through power,  
Me and Lord Bardolph both at Bramham moor.   

And thence conveyed us to the town of York,  
Until he knew what was the King's intent:  
There lo Lord Bardolph kinder than the Stork,  
Did lose his head, which was to London sent,  
With whom for friendship mine in like case went:  
This was my hap, my fortune, or my fault,  
This life I led and thus I came to nought.   

Wherefore good Baldwine will the Peers take heed  
Of slander, malice, and conspiracy,  
Of covetise, whence all the rest proceed:  
For covetise joint with contumacy,  
Doth cause all mischief in men's hearts to breed.  
And therefore this to esperance my word,  
Who causeth bloodshed shall not scape the sword.    

HOW RICHARD PLANTAGENET EARL OF CAMBRIDGE INTENding the King's destruction, was put to death at Southampton, Anno Dom. 1415.  

HAste maketh waste, hath commonly been said,  
And secret mischief seld hath lucky speed:  
A murdering mind with proper poise is weighed,  
All this is true, I find it in my creed.  
And therefore Baldwine warn all states take heed,  
How they conspire another to betrap,  
Lest mischief meant, light in the miners' lap.   

For I Lord Richard heir Plantagenet  
Was Earl of Cambridge and right fortunate,  
If I had had the grace my wit to set,  
To have content me with mine own estate:  
But O false honours, breeders of debate,  
The love of you our lewd hearts doth allure,  
To lose ourselves by seeking you unsure.   

Because my brother Edmund Mortimer  
Whose eldest sister was my wedded wife,  
I mean that Edmund that was prisoner  
In Wales so long, through Owen's busy strife,  
Because I say that after Edmund's life,  
His rights and titles must by law be mine,  
For he ne had, nor could increase his line,   

Because the right of Realm and Crown was ours,  
I searched means to help him thereunto:  
And where the Henry's held it by their powers,  
I sought a shift their tenors to undo,  
Which being force, sith force or sleight must do,  
I void of might, because their power was strong,  
Set privy sleight against their open wrong.   

But sith the death of most part of my kin  
Did dash my hope, throughout the father's days  
I let it slip, and thought it best begin,  
When as the son should dread lest such assays:  
For force through speed, sleight speedeth through delays,  
And ceil doth treason time so fitly find,  
As when all dangers most be out of mind.   

Wherefore while Henry of that name the fist,  
Prepared his army to go conquer France,  
Lord Scroop and I thought to attempt a drift  
To put him down, my brother to advance:  
But were't God's will, my luck or his good chance,  
The King wist wholly whereabout we went,  
The night before to shipward he him bend.   

Then were we strait as traitors apprehended,  
Our purpose spied, the cause thereof was hid,  
And therefore lo a false cause we pretended,  
Where through my brother was from danger rid:  
We said for hire of French Kings coin, we did  
Behight to kill the King: and thus with shame  
We stained ourselves, to save our friend from blame.   

When we had thus confessed so foul a treason,  
That we deserved, we suffered by the law.  
See Baldwine, see, and note as it is reason  
How wicked deeds to woeful ends do draw.  
All force doth fail, no craft is worth a straw  
To attain things lost, and therefore let them go,  
For might rules right, and will though truth say no.   W. Baldwine.  

HOW THOMAS MONTAGVE EARL OF SALISBVrie in the midst of his glory, was chanceably slain at orleans with a piece of Ordinance, the third of November, Anno Dom. 1428.  

WHat fools be we to trust unto our strength,  
Our wit, our courage, or our noble fame,  
Which time itself must needs devour at length,  
Though froward Fortune could not foil the same?  
But seeing this Goddess guideth all the game,  
Which still to change doth set her only lust,  
Why toil we so for things so hard to trust?   

A goodly thing we deem of good report,  
Which noble hearts do seek by course of kind:  
But seeing the date so doubtful and so short,  
The way so rough whereby we do it find,  
I cannot choose but praise the Princely mind  
That presseth for it, though we find oppressed,  
By foul defame, those that deserve it best.   

Concerning whom, mark, Baldwine, what I say,  
I mean the virtuous hindered of their brute,  
Among which number reckon well I may  
My valiant father john Lord Montacute,  
Who lost his life I judge through just pursuit,  
I say the cause and not the casual speed  
Is to be weighed, in every kind of deed.   

This rule observed, how many shall we find  
For virtues sake with infamy oppressed?  
How some again through help of Fortune blind,  
For ill attempts achieved, with honour blest?  
Success is worst oft times when cause is best:  
Therefore say I: God send them sorry haps,  
That judge the causes by their afterclaps.   

The end indeed is judge of every thing,  
Which is the cause or latter point of time:  
The first true verdict at the first may bring,  
The last is slow, or slipper as the slime,  
Oft changing names of innocence and crime.  
Duke Thomas death was justice two years long,  
And ever since, sore tyranny and wrong.   

Wherefore I pray thee, Baldwine, weigh the cause,  
And praise my father as he doth deserve:  
Because Earl Henry, King against all laws,  
Endeavoured King Richard for to starve  
In jail, whereby the regal Crown might serve  
Out of the line to which it then was due,  
(Whereby God knows what evil might ensue.)   

My Lord john Holland Duke of Excester,  
Which was dear cousin to this wretched King,  
Did move my Sire, and th' Earl of Gloucester,  
With other Lords to ponder well the thing:  
Who seeing the mischief that began to spring,  
Did all consent this Henry to depose,  
And to restore King Richard to the Rose.   

And while they did devise a pretty train,  
Whereby to bring their purpose well about,  
Which was in mask this Henry to have slain,  
The Duke of Aumerle blew their counsel out:  
Yet was their purpose good, there is no doubt.  
What cause can be more worthy for a Knight,  
Than save his King, and help true heirs to right?   

For this with them my father was destroyed,  
And buried in the dunghill of defame.  
Thus evil chance, their glory did avoid,  
Whereas their cause doth claim eternal fame.  
When deeds therefore unluckily do frame,  
Men ought not judge the authors to be nought,  
For right through might is often overraught.   

And God doth suffer that it should be so,  
But why, my wit is feeble to decise,  
Except it be to heap up wrath and we  
On wicked heads that injuries devise.  
The cause why mischiefs many times arise,  
And light on them that would men's wrongs redress,  
Is for the rancour that they bear I guess.   

God hateth rigour though it further right,  
For sin is sin, how ever it be used:  
And therefore suffereth shame and death to light,  
To punish vice, though it be well abused.  
Who furthereth right is not thereby excused,  
If through the same he do some other wrong:  
To every vice due guerdon doth belong.   

What preach I now? I am a man of war,  
And that my limbs I dare say doth profess,  
Of cured wounds beset with many a scar,  
My broken jaw unheald can say no less.  
O Fortune, Fortune cause of all distress,  
My father had great cause thy fraud to curse,  
But much more I, abused ten times worse.   

Thou never flatteredst him in all thy life,  
But me thou dandledst like thy darling dear:  
Thy gifts I found in every corner rife,  
Where ere I went I met thy smiling cheer:  
Which was not for a day or for a year,  
But through the reign of three right worthy Kings,  
I found thee forward in all kind of things.   

The while King Henry conquered in France  
I sued the wars and still found victory,  
In all assaults, so happy was my chance,  
Holds yield or won did make my enemies sorry:  
Dame Prudence eke augmented so my glory,  
That in all treaties ever I was one,  
When weighty matters were agreed upon.   

But when this King this mighty conqueror,  
Through death unripe was both his realms bearest,  
His silly infant did receive his power,  
Poor little babe full young in cradle left,  
Where Crown and Sceptre hurt him with the heft,  
Whose worthy uncles had the governance,  
The one at home, the other abroad in France.   

And I which was in peace and war well skilled,  
With both these Rulers greatly was esteemed:  
Bare rule at home as often as they willed,  
And fought in France when they it needful deemed,  
And every where so good my service seemed,  
That English men to me great love did bear,  
Our foes the French, my force fulfilled with fear.   

I always thought it fitly for a Prince,  
And such as have the regiment of Realms,  
His subjects hearts with mildness to convince,  
With justice mixed, avoiding all extremes.  
For like as Phoebus with his cheerful beams,  
Doth freshly force the fragrant flowers to flourish,  
So ruler's mildness subjects love doth nourish.   

This found I true: for through my mild behaviour,  
Their hearts I had with me to live and die,  
And in their speech be wrayer of their favour,  
They called me still good Earl of Salisbury,  
The Lords confess the Commons did not lie.  
For virtuous life, free heart, and lowly mind,  
With high and low shall always favour find.   

Which virtues, chief become a man of war,  
Whereof in France I found experience:  
For in assaults due mildness passeth far  
All rigour, force, and sturdy violence:  
For men will stoutly stick to their defence,  
When cruel Captains covet after spoil,  
And so enforced, oft give their foes the foil.   

But when they know they shall be friendly used,  
They hazard not their heads but rather yield:  
For this my offers never were refused  
Of any town, or surely very ceil.  
But force and furies fit be for the field,  
And there indeed I used so the same,  
My foes would fly if they but heard my name.   

For when Lord Steward and Earl Vantadors  
Had cruelly besieged Cravant town,  
Which he had won, and kept long time before,  
Which lieth in Awxer on the River Youne,  
To raise the siege the Regent sent me down:  
Whereas I used all rigour that I might,  
I killed all that were not saved by flight.   

When th' Earl of Bedford then in France Lord Regent  
Knew in what sort I had removed the siege,  
In Brye and Champain he made me Vicegerent,  
And Lieutenant for him and for my Liege:  
Which caused me go to Brye, and there besiege  
Mountaguillon with twenty weeks assault,  
Which at the last was yielded me for nought.   

And for the Duke of Britain's brother Arthur,  
Both Earl of Richmond and of Yuerie,  
Against his oath from us had made departure,  
To Charles the Dolphin our chief enemy,  
I with the Regent went to Normandy,  
To take his town of Yuerie, which of spite,  
Did to us daily all the harm they might.   

They at the first compounded by a day  
To yield, if rescues did not come before,  
And while in hope to fight, we at it lay,  
The Dolphin gathered men two thousand score,  
With Earls, with Lords and Captains jolly store:  
Of which the Duke of Alencon was guide,  
And sent them down to see if we would bide.   

But they left us, and down to Vernoile went,  
And made their vaunt they had our army slain,  
And through that lie, that town from us they hent,  
Which shortly after turned to their pain:  
For there both armies met upon the plain:  
And we eight thousand whom they flew before,  
Did kill of them, ten thousand men and more.   

When we had taken Vernoile thus again,  
To drive the treacherous Dolphin out of France,  
The Regent sent me t' Anjou and to Main,  
Where I besieged the warlike town of Mawns.  
There Lord of Toysers, Baldwins valiance  
Did well appear, which would not yield the town,  
Till all the Towers and walls were battered down.   

But here now Baldwine, take it in good part,  
Though that I brought this Baldwine there to yield,  
The Lion fierce for all his noble heart,  
Being overmatched, is forced to fly the field.  
If Mars himself there had been with his shield,  
And in my storms had stoutly me withstood,  
He should have yield, or else have shed my blood.   

This worthy Knight both hardy, stout, and wise,  
Wrought well his feat: as time and place require,  
When Fortune fails, it is the best advise  
To strike the sail lest all lie in the mire.  
This have I said to th' end thou take no ire,  
For though no cause be found, so nature frames,  
Men have a zeal to such as bear their names.   

But to return, in Main won I at length,  
Such towns and sorts as might or help or hurt,  
I manned Main, and Suzans town of strength,  
Fort Barnard, Thanceaur, and S. Cales the curt,  
With Lile sues Bolton, standing in the dirt:  
Eke Gwerland, Suze, Loupeland and Mount sure,  
With Malycorne, these won I and kept full sure.   

Besides all this I took near forty holds,  
But those I razed even with the ground:  
And for these deeds, as silly sheep in folds  
Do shrink for fear at every little sound,  
So fled my foes before my face full round:  
Was none so hardy durst abide the fight,  
So Mars and Fortune furthered me their Knight.   

I tell no lie, so ghastful grew my name,  
That it alone discomfited an host:  
The boldest Frenchmen well confess the same,  
Else will the town which they like cowards lost.  
For when they sieged Beauron with great boast,  
Being forty thousand well armed in field,  
Five hundred men enforced them to yield.   

For while the Frenchmen fresh assaulted still,  
Our Englishmen came boldly forth at night,  
Crying Saint George, Salisbury, kill, kill,  
And offered freshly with their foes to fight,  
And they as Frenchly took themselves to flight.  
Supposing surely that I had been there,  
See how my name did put them all in fear.   

Thus was the Dolphin's power discomfited,  
Four thousand slain, their Campetane as it stood,  
Whereby our town and soldiers profited,  
For there were victuals plentiful and good:  
This while was I in England by the rood,  
T'appease a strife that was right foul befall,  
Between Duke Humphrey and the Cardinal.   

The Duke of Exeter soon after died,  
Which of the King at home had governance,  
Whose room the Earl of Warwick then supplied,  
And I took his and sped me into France.  
Where in good hope to conquer Orliance,  
With much ado I got the Regent's aid,  
And marched forth, and siege about it laid.   

But in the way I took the town of Yaine,  
Where murdered were for stoutness many a man:  
But Baugencey I took with little pain,  
For which to show them favour I began:  
This caused the towns of Mewne and jargeman,  
That stood on Loyer, to proffer me the keys,  
Ere I came near them, well-nigh by two days.   

See here how Fortune froward can allure,  
What baits she layeth to bring men to their ends:  
Who having hap like this, but hopeth sure,  
To bring to bale what ever he intends?  
But soon is sour the sweet that Fortune sends:  
When hope and hap, when health and wealth is highest,  
Then woe and wrack, disease, and need be nighest.   

For while I, suing this so good success,  
Laid siege to orleans on the River side,  
The Bastard (Cuckold Cawnies son I guess,  
though thought the Dukes) who had the town in guide  
Came fiercely forth, when he his time espied,  
To raise the siege, but was bet back again,  
And hard pursued both to his loss and pain.   

For there we won the Bulwark on the bridge,  
With a mighty tower standing fast thereby.  
Ah cursed tower that didst my days abridge,  
Would God thou hadst been further either I:  
For in this tower a chamber stands on high,  
From which a man may view through all the town  
By certain windows iron grated down.   

Where on a day, now Baldwine note mine end,  
I stood in viewing where the town was weak,  
And as I busily talked with my friend,  
Shot from the town, which all the grate did break,  
A pellet came and drove a mighty fleake  
Against my face, and tore away my cheek,  
For pain whereof I died within a week.   

See Baldwine, see the most uncertain glory,  
How sudden mischief dasheth all to dust,  
And warn all Princes by my broken story,  
The happiest fortune chiefly to mistrust.  
Was never man that always had his lust:  
Then mortal fools, in fancy more than mad,  
Which hope to have that never any had.   W. Baldwine.  

HOW DAME ELINOR COBHAM DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, FOR PRACtising of Witchcraft and Sorcery, suffered open penance, and after was banished the Realm into the I'll of man..  

IF a poor Lady damned in exile  
Amongst Princes may be allowed place,  
Then gentle Baldwine stay thy pen a while,  
And of pure pity ponder well my case,  
How I a Duchess, destitute of grace  
Have found by proof, as many have and shall  
The proverb true, that pride will have a fall.   

A noble Prince extract of royal blood,  
Humphrey sometime protector of this Land  
Of Gloucester Duke, for virtue called (the good)  
When I but base beneath his state did stand,  
Vouchsafed with me to join in wedlocks band,  
Having in Court no name of high degree,  
But Eleanor Cobham as parents left to me,   

And though by blithe of noble race I was,  
Of Baron's blood, yet was I thought unfit,  
So high to match, yet so it came to pass,  
Whether by grace, good fortune, or by wit,  
Dame Venus' lures so in mine eyes did sit,  
As this great Prince without respect of state,  
Did worthy me to be his wedded mate.   

His wife I was, and he my true husband,  
Though for a while he had the company  
Of Lady jaquet Duchess of Holland,  
Being an heir of ample patrimony,  
But that fell out to be no matrimony:  
For after war, long suit in law and strife,  
She proved was the Duke of Brabant's wife.   

Thus of a Damsel Duchess I became,  
My state and place advanced next the Queen,  
Whereby me thought I felt no ground but swum,  
For in the Court mine equal was not seen,  
And so possessed with pleasure of the spleen,  
The sparks of pride so kindled in my breast,  
As I in Court would shine above the rest.   

Such gifts of nature God in me had grafted  
Of shape and form, with other graces more,  
That by the shot of Cupid's fiery shaft,  
Which to the heart of this great Prince did go,  
This mighty Duke with love was kindled so,  
As he abasing th' height of his degree,  
Set his whole heart, to love and honour me.   

Grudge whoso would, to him I was most dear,  
Above all Dames advanced in degree,  
(The Queen except) no Princess was my peer,  
But gave me place, and Lords with cap and knee  
Did all honour and reverence unto me.  
Thus hoist high upon the rolling wheel,  
I sat so sure, me though I could not reel.   

And weening lest that Fortune hath a turn,  
I looked aloft, and would not look allow,  
The brands of pride so in my breast did burn  
As the hot sparks, burst forth in open show,  
And more and more the fire began to glow  
Without quenching, and daily did increase,  
Till Fortune's blasts with shame did make it cease.   

For (as 'tis said) pride passeth on afore,  
And shame follows, for just reward and meed:  
Would God Ladies, both now and evermore,  
Of my hard hap, which shall the story reed,  
Would bear in mind, and trust it as their Creed,  
That pride of heart is a most hateful vice,  
And low linesse, a pearl of passing price:   

Namely in Queens, and Ladies of estate,  
Within whose minds all meekness should abound,  
Since high disdain doth always purchase hate,  
Being a vice, that most part doth redound  
To their reproach, in whom the same is found,  
And seldom gets good favour or good fame,  
But is at last knit up with worldly shame.   

The proof whereof I found most true indeed,  
That pride afore, hath shame to wait behind.  
Let no man doubt, in whom this vice doth breed,  
But shame for pride by justice is assigned,  
Which I well found, for truly in my mind  
Was never none, whom pride did more inflame,  
Nor never none received greater shame.   

For not content to be a Duchess great,  
I longed sore to bear the name of Queen,  
Aspiring still unto an higher seat,  
And with that hope myself did overween,  
Since there was none, which that time was between  
Henry the King, and my good Duke his eme  
Heir to the crown and kingdom of this Realm.   

So near to be, was cause of my vain hope  
And long await when this fair hap would fall;  
My studies all were tending to that scope,  
Alas, the while to counsel I did call  
Such as would seem, by skill conjectural  
Of art Magic and wicked Sorcery,  
For to divine the Prince's destiny.   

Among which sort of those that bore most fame  
There was a Beldame called the Witch of Ay,  
Old mother Madge her neighbours did her name,  
Which wrought wonders in countries by heresay,  
Furies and fiends her charming would obey.  
And dead corpse from grave she could uprear,  
Such an Enchantress that time had no peer.   

Two Priests also, the one height Bolenbroke,  
The other Suthwel, Clerks in conjuration,  
These two Chaplains were they that undertook  
To cast and calk the King's true constellation,  
And then to judge by deepest divination  
Of things to come, and who should next succeed  
To England's Crown, all this was true indeed.   

And further sure they never did proceed,  
Though I confess that this attempt was ill,  
But for my part, for any thing in deed  
Wrought or else thought, by any kind of skill,  
God is my judge I never had the will,  
By any enchantment, Sorcery, or charm,  
Or otherwise, to work my Prince's harm.   

Yet ne'ertheless, when this case came to light,  
By secret spies to Caiphas our Cardinal,  
Who long in heart had borne a privy spite  
To my good Duke his nephew natural,  
Glad of the chance so fitly forth to fall,  
His long hid hate, with justice to colour,  
Used this case with most extreme rigour,   

And caused me with my complices all,  
To be cited by process peremptory,  
Before judges, in place judicial,  
Whereas Caiphas, sitting in his glory,  
Would not allow my answer dilatory,  
Ne Doctor or Proctor to allege the laws,  
But forced me to plead in mine own cause.   

The King's counsel were called to the case,  
(My husband then shut out for the season)  
In whose absence I found but little grace,  
For Lawyers turned our offence to treason:  
And so with rigour, without ruth or reason,  
Sentence was given, that I for the same  
Should do penance, and suffer open shame.   

Nay the like shame had never wight I ween,  
Duchess, Lady, ne Damsel of degree,  
As I that was a Princess, next the Queen,  
Wife to a Prince, and none so great as he,  
A King's uncle, Protector of his country,  
With Taper burning, shrouded in a sheet  
Three days a row, to pass the open street,   

Barelegd, and bare foot, to all the world's wonder,  
Yea, and as though such shame did not suffice,  
With more despite then to part asunder  
Me and my Duke, which Traitors did devise  
By Statute law, in most unlawful wise,  
First sending me with shame into exile,  
Then murdering him by treachery and guile.   

Yea and besides this cruel banishment  
Far from all friends to comfort me in care,  
And husband's death, there was by Parliament  
Ordained for me a mess of courser fare.  
For they to bring me to beggars state most bare,  
By the same act from me did then withdraw  
Such right of dower, as widows have by law.   

Death (as 'tis said) doth set all things at rest,  
Which fell not so in mine unhappy case:  
For since my death, mine enemies made a jest  
In minstrels rhymes, mine honour to deface.  
And then to bring my name in more disgrace,  
A song was made in manner of a lay,  
Which old wives sing of me unto this day.   

Yet with these spite's their malice could not end,  
For shortly after, my sorrows to renew,  
My loyal Lord, which never did offend,  
Was called in haste, the cause he little knew,  
To a Parliament, without summons due,  
Whereas his death was cruelly contrived,  
And I his wife of earthly joys deprived.   

For all the while my Duke had life and breath,  
So long I stood in hope of my restore:  
But when I heard of his most causeless death,  
Then the best salve for my recureless sore  
Was to despair of cure for evermore,  
And as I could, my careful heart to cure  
With patience, most painful to endure.   

O Traitors fell, which in your hearts could find,  
Like fiends of hell, the guiltless to betray,  
But ye chiefly his kinsmen most unkind,  
Which gave consent to make him so away,  
That unto God, with all my heart I pray,  
Vengeance may light on him that caused all,  
Beaufort I mean, that cursed Cardinal.   

Which bastard Priest of th' house of Lancaster,  
Son to Duke john, surnamed john of Gaunt,  
Was first create Bishop of Winchester,  
For no learning whereof he might well vaunt,  
Ne for virtue, which he did never haunt,  
But for his Gold and sums that were not small  
Paid to the Pope, was made a Cardinal.   

Proud Lucifer, which from the heavens on high  
Down to the pit of hell below was cast,  
And being once an Angel bright in sky,  
For his pride in hell is chained fast  
In deep darkness that evermore shall last,  
More haut of heart was not before his fall,  
Then was this proud and pompous Cardinal:   

Whose life, good Baldwine, paint out in his pickle,  
A and blaze this Baal and Belligod most blind,  
An hypocrite, all faithless, false and fickle,  
A wicked wretch, a kinsman most unkind,  
A Devil incarnate, all devilishly inclined,  
And (to discharge my conscience all at once)  
The Devil him gnaw both body, blood and bones.   

The spiteful Priest would needs make me a Witch,  
As would to God I had been for his sake,  
I would have clawed him where he did not itch,  
I would have played the Lady of the Lake,  
And as Merline was, closed him in a brake,  
Ye a Meridian to lull him by day light,  
And a night mare to ride on him by night.   

The fiery fiends with fevers hot and frenzy,  
The Airy hedges with stench and carrion savours,  
The watery ghosts with gouts and with dropsy,  
The earthly Goblins, with Aches at all hours,  
Furies and Fairies, with all infernal powers  
I would have stirred from the dark dungeon  
Of hell Centre, as deep as Demagorgon.   

Or had I now the skill of dame Erichto,  
Whose dreadful charms (as Lucan doth express)  
All fiends did fear, so far forth as Prince Pluto  
Was at her call for dread of more distress,  
Then would I send of helhownds more and less  
A legion at least, at him to cry and yell,  
And with that charm, herrie him down to hell.   

Which need not, for sure I think that he  
Who here in earth leads Epicurus life,  
As far from God as possible may be,  
With whom all sin and vices are most rife,  
Using at will both widow, maid, and wife,  
But that some Devil his body doth possess,  
His life is such, as men can judge no less.   

And God forgive my wrath and wreakful mind,  
Such is my hate to that most wicked wretch,  
Die when he shall, in heart I could well find  
Out of the grave his corpse again to fetch,  
And rack his limbs as long as they would stretch,  
And take delight to listen every day  
How he could sing a mass of wellaway.   

The I'll of Man was the appointed place  
To penance me for ever in exile,  
Thither in haste they posted me apace,  
And doubting escape, they pinned me in a Pile  
Close by myself in care, alas the while  
There felt I first poor prisoners hungry fare,  
Much want, things scant, and stone walls hard and bare.   

The change was strange, from silk and cloth of gold  
To rugged freeze my carcase for to clothe,  
From Prince's fare, and dainties hot and cold,  
To rotten fish, and meats that one would loathe,  
The diet and dressing were much alike boath,  
Bedding and lodging were all alike fine,  
Such Down it was as served well for swine.   

Neither do I mine own case thus complain,  
Which I confess came partly by desert:  
The only cause which doubleth all my pain,  
And which most near goeth now unto my heart,  
Is that my fault did finally revert  
To him that was least guilty of the same,  
Whose death it was, though I abode the shame.   

Whose fatal fall when I do call to mind,  
And how by me his mischief first began,  
So oft I cry on Fortune most unkind,  
And my mishap most utterly do ban,  
That ever I to such a noble man,  
Who from my crime was innocent and clear,  
Should be a cause to buy his love so dear.   

Oh to my heart how grievous is the wound,  
Calling to mind this dismal deadly case:  
I would I had been doluen under ground  
When he first saw or looked on my face,  
Or took delight in any kind of grace  
Seeming in me, that him did stir or move  
To fancy me, or set his heart to love.   

Farewell Greenwich my Palace of delight,  
Where I was wont to see the Crystal streams  
Of royal Thames, most pleasant to my sight:  
And farewell Kent, right famous in all Realms,  
A thousand times I mind you in my dreams,  
And when I wake most grief it is to me,  
That never more again I shall you see.   

In the night time when I should take my rest  
I weep, I wail, I wet my bed with tears,  
And when dead sleep my spirits hath oppressed,  
Troubled with dreams I fantasy vain fears,  
Mine husband's voice then ringeth at mine ears  
Crying for help, O save me from the death,  
These villains here do seek to stop my breath.   

Yea and sometimes me thinks his dreary ghost  
Appears in sight, and shows me in what wise  
Those fell tyrants with torments had embossed  
His wind and breath, to abuse people's eyes,  
So as no doubt or question should arise  
Among rude folk which little understand,  
But that his death came only by God's hand.   

I plain in vain, where ears be none to hear  
But roaring seas, and blustering of the wind,  
And of redress am near a whit the near,  
But with waste words to feed my mournful mind,  
Wishing full oft the Parca's had untwined  
My vital strings, or Atropose with knife  
Had cut the line of my most wretched life.   

Oh that Neptune, and Aeolus also,  
Th' one god of Seas, the other of weather,  
Ere mine arrival into that I'll of woe  
Had sunk the ship wherein I sailed thither,  
(The shipmen saved) so as I together  
With my good Duke, might have been dead afore  
Fortune had wroken her heart upon us so sore.   

Or else that God when my first passage was  
Into exile along Saint Albon's town  
Had never let me further for to pass,  
But in the street with death had struck me down:  
Then had I sped of my desired boon  
That my poor corpse might there have lain with his  
Both in one grave, and so have gone to bliss.   

But I alas, the greater is my grief  
Am past that hope to have my sepulture  
near unto him, which was to me most lief,  
But in an I'll and country most obscure,  
To pine in pain whilst my poor life will dure,  
And being dead, all honourless to lie  
In simple grave, as other poor that die.   

My tale is told, and time it is to cease  
Of troubles past, all which have had their end:  
My grave I trust shall purchase me such peace  
In such a world where no wight doth contend  
For higher place, whereto all flesh shall wend:  
And so I end, using one word for all  
As I began, that pride will have a fall.   G. Ferrer.  

HOW HUMPHREY PLANTAGENET DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. Protector of England, during the minority of his Nephew King Henry the sixth, (commonly called the good Duke) by practice of enemies was brought to confusion.  

AS highest hills with tempests been most touched,  
And tops of trees most subject unto wind,  
And as great towers with stone strongly couched  
Have heavy falls when they be undermined:  
Even so by proof in worldly things we find,  
That such as climb the top of high degree  
From fear of falling never can be free.   

To prove this true, good Baldwine hearken here,  
See and behold me Humphrey hight by name,  
England's Protector, Duke of Gloucester,  
Who in the sixth King Henry's rule with fame,  
Twice ten years kept the troubled State in frame:  
Note well the cause of my unhappy case,  
And'mongst thy mirrors let the same have place.   

In their most weal, let men beware mishap,  
And not to sleep in slumbering sickernesse,  
Whilst Fortune false doth lull them in her lap  
Drowned in dreams of brittle blessedness,  
But then to fear her freaks and fickleness,  
Accounting still the higher they ascend,  
More nigh to be to danger in the end.   

And that vain trust in blood or royal race,  
Abuse them not with blind security  
To trust their state, but weighing well my case,  
When she most smiles to have in memory  
My sudden fall, who in most certainty  
Having most stays which men in state maintain,  
Have found the same untrusty and most vain.   

Better than I none may the same approve,  
Who trusting all in height of high estate,  
To bite on fawning flatteries bait did love,  
Which never Prince could banish from his gate,  
Did little think on such a sudden mate,  
Not heeding, less dreading, all unaware,  
By foes least feared was trapped in sudden snare.   

If noble birth or high authority,  
Number of friends, kindred or alliance,  
If wisdom, learning, worldly policy  
Mought have been stairs to Fortune's variance,  
None stood more strong, in worldly countenance,  
For all these helps had I to high degree,  
And yet in fine they all beguiled me.   

Of Henry fourth by name, fourth son I was,  
Brother to Henry fifth of that same name,  
To the sixth Henry uncle; but alas,  
What cause had I to build upon the same?  
Or for vain glory, to advance my fame,  
Myself to call in records and writings,  
The brother, son, and uncle unto Kings?   

This was my boast, which lastly was my bane,  
Yet not this boast was it that brought me down:  
The very cause which made my weal to wane  
So near of kin that I was to the Crown,  
That was the rock that made my ship to drown.  
A rule there is not failing, but most sure,  
Kingdom no kin doth know, ne can endure.   

When the fifth Henry by his valiancy  
won by conquest the royal Realm of France,  
And of two Kingdoms made one Monarchy  
Before his death, for better obeisance,  
To his young son, not ripe to governance,  
Protector of England I was by testament,  
And john my brother in France made Regent.   

To whom if God had lent a longer life,  
Our house t'have kept from storms of inward strife,  
Or it had been the Lord Almighty's will,  
Plantagenet in state had standen still.  
But deadly discord which all states do spill  
Bred by desire of high domination,  
Brought our whole house to plain desolation.   

It is for truth in an history found  
That Henry Plantagenet first of our name,  
Who called was, King Henry the second  
Son of Dame Maude, the Empress of high fame,  
Would oft report, that his ancient Grandam,  
Though seeming in shape a woman natural,  
Was a Fiend of the kind that (Succubae) some call.   

Which old fable, so long time told before,  
When this King's sons against him did rebel,  
He called to mind, and being grieved sore,  
Lo! now (quoth he) I see and prove full well  
The story true, which folk of old did tell,  
That from a fiend descended all our race,  
And now my children verify the case.   

Whereof to leave a long memorial  
In mind of man for evermore to rest,  
A Picture he made and hung it in his Hall  
Of a Pelican sitting on his nest,  
With four young birds, three pecking at his breast  
With bloody beaks, and further did devise,  
The youngest bird to peck the father's eyes.   

Meaning hereby his rebel Children three,  
Henry and Richard, bet him on the breast:  
(jeffrey only from that offence was free)  
Henry died of England's Crown possessed:  
Richard lived his father to molest,  
john the youngest pect his father's eye,  
Whose deeds unkind the sooner made him die.   

This King (some write) in his sickness last  
Said, as it were by way of prophecy,  
How that the Devil a Darnell grain had cast  
Among his kin, to increase enmity,  
Which should remain in their posterity  
Till mischief and murder had spent them all,  
Not leaving one to piss against the wall.   

And yet from him in order did succeed  
In England here of crowned Kings fourteen  
Of that surname, and of that line and seed,  
With Dukes and Earls, and many a noble Queen,  
The number such as all the world would ween  
So many imps could never so be spent,  
But some heir male should be of that descent.   

Which to be true if any stand in doubt,  
Because I mean not further to digress,  
Let him pursue the histories throughout  
Of English Kings whom practice did oppress,  
And he shall find the cause of their distress  
From first to last, unkindly to begin  
Always by those that next were of the kin.   

Was not Richard, of whom I spoke before,  
A rebel plain until his father died,  
And john likewise an enemy evermore  
To Richard again, and for a rebel tried?  
After whose death, it cannot be denied,  
Against all right this john most cruelly  
His brother's children caused for to die.   

Arthur and Isabella (I mean) that were  
jeffreys children then duke of Britain  
Henry's third son, by one degree more near  
Then was this john, as stories show most plain,  
Which two children were famished or else slain  
By john their eme called Saunzterre by name,  
Of whose foul act all countries speak great shame.   

Edward and Richard, second both by name  
Kings of this Land, fell down by fatal fate:  
What was the cause that Princes of such fame  
Did lose at last their honour, life, and state?  
Nothing at all, but discord and debate,  
Which when it haps in kindred or in blood,  
Erynnis rage was never half so wood.   

Be sure therefore ye Kings and Princes all  
That concord in Kingdoms is chief assurance,  
And that your families do never fall  
But where discord doth lead the doubtful dance  
With busy brawls, and turns of variance:  
Where malice is minstrel, the pipe ill report,  
The mask mischief, and so ends the sport.   

But now to come to my purpose again,  
Whilst I my charge applied in England,  
My brother in France long time did remain,  
Cardinal Beauford took proudly in hand  
In causes public against me to stand,  
Who of great malice so much as he might  
Sought in all things to do me despite.   

Which proud prelate to me was bastard eme,  
Son to Duke john of Gaunt as they did fain,  
Who being made high Chancellor of the Realm,  
Not like a Priest, but like a Prince did reign,  
Nothing wanting which might his pride maintain,  
Bishop beside of Winchester he was,  
And Cardinal of Rome, which Angels brought to pass.   

Not God's Angels, but Angels of old Gold  
Lift him aloft, in whom no cause there was  
By just desert so high to be extolled,  
(Riches except) whereby this golden ass  
At home and abroad all matters brought to pass:  
Namely at Rome, having no mean but that  
To purchase there his crimz in Cardinal hat,   

Which thing the King my father him forbade  
Plainly saying, that he could not abide  
Within his Realm a subject to be had  
His Prince's peer, yet such was this man's pride,  
That he forth with after my father died,  
(The King then young) obtained of the Pope  
That honour high, which erst he could not hope.   

Whose proud attempts because that I withstood,  
My bond duty the better to acquit,  
This holy father waxed well near wood,  
Of mere malice devising day and night  
To work to me dishonour and despite,  
Whereby there fell between us such a jar,  
As in this land was like a civil war.   

My brother john, which lay this while in France,  
Herd of this hurl, and past the seas in haste,  
By whose travel this troublesome distance  
Ceased a while, but ne'ertheless in waste:  
For rooted hate will hardly be displaced  
Out of high hearts, and namely where debate,  
Happeneth amongst great persons of estate.   

For like as a match doth lie and smoulder  
Long time before it cometh to the train:  
But yet when fire hath caught in the powder,  
No art is able the flames to restrain:  
Even so the sparks of envy and disdain,  
Out of the smoke burst forth in such a flame,  
That France and England yet may rue the same.   

So when of two Realms the regiment royal,  
Between brothers was parted equally,  
One placed in France for affairs Martial,  
And I at home for civil policy:  
To serve the state, we both did so apply,  
As honour and same to both did increase,  
To him for the war, to me for the peace.   

Whence envy sprang, and specially because  
This proud prelate could not abide a Peer  
Within the land to rule the state by laws,  
Wherefore sifting my life and acts most near,  
He never ceased, until, as you shall hear,  
By practice foul of him and his allies,  
My death was wrought in most unworthy wise.   

And first he sought my doings to defame,  
By rumours false, which he and his did sow:  
Letters and bills to my reproach and shame  
He did devise, and all about bestow,  
Whereby my troth in doubt should daily grow,  
In England first, and afterward in France,  
Moving all means to bring me to mischance.   

One quarrel was, that where by common law  
Murder and theft been punished all alike,  
So as manslayers, which bloody blades do draw,  
Suffer no more than he that doth but pike,  
Me thought the same no order politic,  
In setting pains to make no difference,  
Between the lesser and greater offence.   

I being seen somewhat in civil law,  
The rules thereof reputed much bitter.  
Wherefore to keep offenders more in awe,  
Like as the fault was smaller or greater,  
So set I pains more easier or bitter,  
Weghing the quality of every offence,  
And so according pronounced sentence.   

Amongst my other Delicta Iwentutis,  
Whilst rage of youth my reason did subdue,  
I must confess as the very truth is,  
Driven by desire fond fancies to ensue,  
A thing I did, whereof great trouble grew,  
Abusing one to my no small rebuke,  
Which wife was then to john of Brabant Duke.   

Called she was Lady jaquet the fair,  
delightful in love like Helen of Troy:  
To the Duke of Bavier sole daughter and heir,  
Her did I marry to my great annoy:  
Yet for a time, this dame I did enjoy,  
With her whole lands, withholding them by force,  
Till Martin the Pope, between us made divorce.   

Yet all these blasts not able were to move  
The anchor strong, whereby my ship did stay,  
Some other shift to seek him did behove,  
Whereto ere long ill Fortune made the way,  
Which finally was cause of my decay  
And cruel death, contrived by my foes,  
Which fell out thus, as now I shall disclose.   

Eleanor my wife, my Duchess only dear,  
I know not how, but as the nature is  
Of women all, aye curious to inquire  
Of things to come (though I confess in this  
Her fault not small) and that she did amiss,  
By witch's skill, which Sorcery some call,  
Would know of things which after should befall.   

And for that cause made herself acquainted  
With mother Madge, called the witch of Eye,  
And with a Clerk that after was attainted,  
Bolenbroke he hight, that learned was that way,  
With other more, which famous were that day,  
As well in Science called Mathematical,  
As also in Magic skill supernatural.   

These cunning folks she set on work to know  
The time how long the King should live and reign,  
Some by the Stars, and some by fiends below,  
Some by witchcraft sought knowledge to attain,  
With like fancies, frivolous, fond and vain,  
Whereof though I knew least of any man,  
Yet by that mean my mischief first began.   

Yet besides this there was a greater thing,  
How she in wax by counsel of the witch,  
An Image made, crowned like a King,  
With sword in hand, in shape and likeness sich  
As was the King, which daily they did pitch  
Against a fire, that as the wax did melt,  
So should his life consume away unfelt.   

My Duchess thus accused of this crime,  
As she that should such practise first begin,  
My part was then to yield unto the time,  
Giving her leave to deal alone therein.  
And since the cause concerned deadly sin,  
Which to the Clergy only doth pertain,  
To deal therein I plainly did refrain.   

And suffered them her person to ascite  
Into their Courts, to answer and appear,  
Which to my heart was sure the greatest spite  
That could be wrought, and touched me most near,  
To see my wife, and Lady lief and dear,  
To my reproach, and plain before my face,  
Entreated so, as one of sort most base.   

The Clergy then examining her cause,  
Convinced her, as guilty in the same,  
And sentence gave according to their laws,  
That she and they whom I before did name  
Should suffer death, or else some open shame:  
Of which penance my wife by sentence had  
To suffer shame, of both the two more bad.   

And first she must by days together three,  
Through London streets pass all along in sight  
Bareleged and barefoot, that all the world might see,  
Bearing in hand a burning taper bright,  
And not content with this extreme despite,  
To work me woe in all they may or can,  
Exiled she was into the I'll of man..   

This heinous crime and open worldly shame,  
With such rigour showed unto my wife,  
Was a fine fetch further things to frame,  
And nothing else but a preparative  
First from office, and finally from life  
Me to deprive, and so passing further,  
What law could not, to execute by murder.   

Which by sly drifts, and windlaces aloof,  
They brought about, persuading first the Queen,  
That in effect it was the King's reproof,  
And hers also, to be exempted clean  
From princely rule, or that it should be seen  
A King of years still governed to be  
Like a pupil, that nothing could foresee.   

The danger more, considering the King  
Was without child, I being his next heir  
To rule the Realm, as Prince in every thing  
Without restraint, and all the sway to bear.  
With people's love, whereby it was to fear  
That my haut heart, unbridled in desire,  
Time would prevent, and to the Crown aspire.   

These with such like were put into her head,  
Who of herself was thereto soon inclined,  
Other there were that this ill humour fed,  
To neither part that had good will or mind,  
The Duke of York our cousin most unkind,  
Who keeping close a title to the Crown,  
Lancaster's house did labour to pull down.   

The stay whereof he took to stand in me,  
Seeing the King of courage nothing stout,  
Neither of wit great peril to foresee,  
So for purpose, if he could bring about  
Me to displace, than did he little doubt  
To gain the Goal, for which he drove the ball,  
The Crown (I mean) to catch ere it should fall.   

This hope made him against me to conspire  
With those which foes were to each other late,  
The Queen did ween to win her whole desire,  
Which was to rule the King and all the State  
If I were rid, whom therefore she did hate,  
Forecasting not, when that was brought to pass,  
How weak of friends the King her husband was.   

The Duke's two, of Excester, and Buckingham,  
With the Marquis Dorset therein did agree,  
But namely the Marquis of Suffolk William,  
Contriver chief of this conspiracy,  
With other more, that sat still and did see  
Their mortal foes on me to whet their knives,  
Which turned at last to loss of all their lives.   

But vain desire of sovereignty and rule,  
Which otherwise (Ambition) hath no name,  
So stirred the Queen, that wilful as a Mule,  
Headlong she runs from smoke into the flame,  
Driving a drift, which after did so frame,  
As she, the King, with all their line and race,  
Deprived were of honour, life, and place.   

So for purpose she thought it very good,  
With former foes in friendship to confeder,  
The Duke of York and other of his blood,  
With Nevil's all, knit were then all together,  
And Delapoole, friend afore to neither:  
The Cardinal also came within this list,  
As Herode and Pilate to judge jesus Christ.   

This cursed league too late discovered was  
By Bayards blind, that linked in the line,  
The Queen and Cardinal brought it so to pass,  
With Marquis Suffolk master of this mine,  
Whose ill advice was counted very fine,  
With other more which finely could disguise,  
With false visors my mischief to devise.   

Concluding thus they point without delay  
Parliament to hold, in some unhaunted place,  
Far from London, out of the common way,  
Where few or none should understand the case,  
But whom the Queen and Cardinal did embrace:  
And so for place they chose Saint Edmundsburie,  
Since when (some say) England was never merry.   

Summons was sent this company to call,  
Which made me muse, that in so great a case  
I should no whit of counsel be at all,  
Who yet had rule, and next the King in place,  
Me thought nothing my state could more disgrace  
Then to bear name, and in effect to be  
A cipher in Algrim, as all men might see.   

And though just cause I had for to suspect  
The time and place appointed by my foes,  
And that my friends most plainly did detect  
The subtle train, and practise of all those  
Which against me great treasons did suppose,  
Yet trust of truth with a conscience clear  
Gave me good heart, in that place to appear.   

Upon which trust with more haste then good speed,  
Forward I went to that unlucky place  
Duty to show, and no whit was in dread  
Of any train, but bold to show my face  
As a true man, yet so fell out the case  
That after travel seeking for repose,  
An armed band my lodging did enclose.   

The Viscount Beaumount, who for the time supplied  
The office of high Constable of the Land,  
Was with the Queen and Cardinal allied,  
By whose support he stoutly took in hand  
My lodging to enter with an armed band,  
And for high treason my person did arrest,  
And laid me that night where him seemed best.   

Then shaking and quaking, for dread of a dream,  
Half waked all naked in bed as I lay,  
What time struck the chime of mine hour extreme,  
Oppressed was my rest with mortal affray,  
My foes did unclose, I know not which way  
My chamber doors, and boldly in brake,  
And had me fast before I could wake.   

Thou lookest now, that of my secret murder,  
I should at large the manner how declare,  
I pray thee Baldwine ask of me no further,  
For speaking plain, it came so at unware,  
As I myself, which caught was in the snare,  
Scarcely am able the circumstance to show,  
Which was kept close, and known but unto few.   

But be thou sure by violence it was,  
And no whit bred by sickness or disease,  
That felt it well before my life did pass,  
For when these wolves my body once did seize,  
Used I was but smally to mine ease,  
With torments strong which went so near the quick,  
As made me die before that I was sick.   

A Palsy (they said) my vital spirits oppressed,  
Bred by excess of melancholy black,  
This for excuse to lay, them seemed best,  
Lest my true friends the cause might further rack,  
And so perhaps discover the whole pack  
Of my false foes, whom they might well suspect  
For causes great, which after took effect.   

Dead was I found by such as best did know  
The manner how the same was brought to pass,  
And then my corpse was set out for a show,  
By view whereof nothing perceived was:  
Whereby the world may see as in a glass,  
Th' unsure state of them that stand most high,  
Which then dread least, when danger is most nigh.   

And also see what danger they are in,  
Which next their King are to succeed in place:  
Since Kings most part be jealous of their kin,  
Whom I advise, forewarned by my case,  
To bear low sail, and not too much embrace  
The people's love: for as Senec saith truly:  
O quam funestus est favour populi.   G. Ferrer.  

HOW LORD WILLIAM DELAPOLE Duke of Suffolk was worthily banished, for abusing his King, and causing the destruction of the good Duke Humphrey, Anno Dom. 1450.  

Heavy is the hap whereto all men be bound,  
I mean the death, which no estate may fly:  
But to be banished, headed, and then drowned  
In sink of shame from top of honours hie,  
Was never man so served I think but I.  
Wherefore Baldwine amongst the rest by right,  
I claim of thee my woeful case to write.   

My only life in all points may suffice,  
To show how base all baits of Fortune be,  
Which thaw like ye, through heat of envies eyes,  
Of vicious deeds which much possessed me.  
Good hap with vice, long time cannot agree,  
Which bring best Fortunes to the basest fall,  
And happiest hap to envy to be thrall.   

Called I was William De la Poole,  
Of Suffolk Duke in Queen Margaret's days,  
That found the mean Duke Humfreys blood to cool,  
Whose worthy acts deserve eternal praise,  
Whereby I note that Fortune cannot raise  
Any aloft, without some others wrack:  
Floods drown no fields before they find brack.   

But as the waters which do break the walls  
Do lose their course they had within the shore,  
And daily rotting stink within their stalls,  
For fault of moving which they found before:  
Even so the state that over high is boar,  
Doth lose the life of people's love it had,  
And rots itself until it fall to bad.   

For while I was but Earl, each man was glad  
To say and do the best by me they might:  
And Fortune ever since I was a lad,  
Did smile upon me with a cheerful sight,  
For when my King had doubed me a Knight  
And sent me forth to serve at war in France,  
My luckily speed mine honour did enhance.   

Where, to omit the many feats I wrought  
Under others guide, I do remember one,  
Which with my soldiers valiantly was fought,  
None other Captain save myself alone,  
I mean not now th' apprinze of Pucell jone  
In which attempt my travail was not small,  
Though Burgoyne Duke had then the praise of all.   

The siege of Awmarie is the feat I praise:  
A strong built Town, with castles, walls, and vaults,  
With men and weapon armed at all assays:  
To which I gave nigh five times five assaults,  
Till at the last they yielded it for naughts.  
Yet Lord Ramburs most like a valiant Knight,  
Defended it as long as ere he might.   

But what prevailed it these towns to win,  
Which shortly after must be lost again?  
Whereby I see there is more glory in  
The keeping things, then is in their attain:  
To get and keep not, is but loss and pain.  
Therefore ought men provide to save their win  
In all attempts, else lose they their beginnings.   

Because we could not keep the towns we won,  
For they were more than we might easily wield,  
One year undid what we in ten had done:  
Envy at home, treason abroad, did yield  
King Charles his Realm of France, made barren field:  
For bloody wars had wasted all increase,  
Which caused the Pope help need to sue for peace.   

So that in Touraine at the town of Tours  
Duke Charles and other for their Prince appeared,  
So did Lord Rosse and I then Earl, for ours:  
And when we showed wherein each other dere,  
We sought out means all quarrels to have cleared,  
Wherein the Lords of Germany, of Spain,  
Of Hungary, and Denmark, took great pain.   

But sith we could no final peace induce,  
For neither would the others covenants hear,  
For eighteen months we did conclude a truce:  
And while as friends we lay together there,  
Because my warrant did me therein bear,  
To make a perfect peace and through accord,  
I sought a marriage for my sovereign Lord.   

And for the French Kings daughters were too small,  
I fancied most Dame Margaret his niece,  
A lovely Lady beautiful and tall,  
Fair spoken, pleasant, and a Princely piece,  
In wit and learning matchless hence to Greece,  
Duke Rayners heir of Anjou, King by style  
Of Naples, jerusalem, and Sicil I'll.   

But ere I could the grant of her attain,  
All that our King had of her father's lands,  
As Maunts the town, the county whole of Maine,  
And most of Anjou duchy in our hands,  
I did release him by assured bands.  
And as for do wire with her none I sought,  
I thought no peace could be too dearly bought.   

And when this marriage thoroughly was agreed  
Although my King was glad of such a make,  
His uncle Humphrey hated it indeed,  
Because thereby his precontract he broke,  
Made with the heir of the Earl of Arminacke,  
A noble maid with store of goods endowed,  
Which more than this with loss the Duke allowed.   

But love and beauty in the King so wrought,  
That neither gain or promise he regarded,  
But set his uncles counsel still at nought:  
And for my pains I highly was awarded.  
Thus virtue starves, but lustfood must be larded.  
For I made marquess went to France again,  
And brought this bride unto my Sovereign.   

At home because Duke Humphrey aye repined,  
Calling their match adultery (as it was)  
The Queen did move me, erst thereto inclined,  
To help to bring him to his Requiem mass,  
Which sith it could for no crime come to pass,  
His life and doings were so right and clear,  
Through privy murder we brought him to his bear.   

Thus righteousness brought Humphrey to rebuke,  
Because he would no wickedness allow,  
But for my doings I was made a Duke.  
So Fortune can both bend and smooth her brow  
On whom she list, not passing why or how.  
O Lord how high, how soon she did me raise,  
How fast she filled me both with prays and praise!   

The Lords and Commons both of like assent,  
Besought my sovereign kneeling on their knees,  
For to record my deeds in the Parliament,  
As deeds deserving everlasting fees.  
In which attempt they did no labour lose,  
For they set not my praise so fast in flame,  
As he was ready to reward the same.   

But note the end: my deeds so worthy deemed  
Of King, of Lords, and Commons all together,  
Were shortly after treasons false esteemed,  
And all men cursed Queen Marget's coming lither:  
For Charles the French King in his feats not lither,  
When we had rendered Rayner, Maunts, and Maine,  
Found mean to win all Normandy again.   

This made the people curse the marriage,  
Esteeming it the cause of every loss:  
Wherefore at me with open mouth they rage,  
Affirming me t'have brought the Realm to moss:  
When King and Queen saw things thus go across,  
To quiet all a Parliament they called,  
And caused me in prison to be thralled.   

And shortly after brought me forth abroad,  
Which made the Commons more than double wood:  
And some with weapons would have laid on load,  
If their grand Captain Blewberd in his mood  
Had not in time with wisdom been withstood:  
But though that he and more were executed,  
The people still their worst against me bruited.   

And so applied the Parliament with bills,  
Of heinous wrongs and open traitorous crimes,  
That King and Queen were forced against their wills,  
From place to place t'adiourne it divers times.  
For Prince's power is like the sandy slimes,  
Which must perforce give place unto the wave,  
Or sue the windy surges when they rave.   

Their life was not more dear to them then I,  
Which made them search all shifts to save me still,  
But aye my foes such faults did on me try,  
That to preserve me from a worse ill,  
The King was fain full sore against his will,  
For five years space to send me in exile,  
In hope to have restored me in a while.   

But mark how vengeance waiteth upon vice,  
To shun this storm, in sailing towards France,  
A pirates Bark, that was of little price,  
Encountered me upon the feas by chance,  
Whose Captain there took me as in a trance,  
Let pass my ships, with all their frait and load,  
And led me back again to Dover road.   

Where unto me recounting all my faults,  
As murdering of Duke Humphrey in his bed,  
And how I had brought all the Realm to naughts,  
Causing the King unlawfully to wed,  
There was no grace but I must lose my head.  
Wherefore he made me shrive me in his boat,  
And on the brink my neck in two he smote.   

This was mine end: which was by reason due  
To me, and such as others deaths procure.  
Therefore be bold to write, for it is true,  
That whoso doth such practice put in ure,  
Of due reward at last shall be most sure,  
For God is just, whose stroke delayed long,  
Doth light at last with pain more sharp and strong.   W. Baldwine.  

HOW JACK CADE NAMING HIMSELF MORTIMER, TRAITOROUSLY rebelling against his King, in june, Anno 1450. was for his treasons and cruel doings worthily punished.  

SHall I it Fortune call, or my froward folly,  
That raised me up and laid me down below?  
Or was it courage that made me so jolly,  
Which of the stars and bodies greement grow?  
What ere it were this one point sure I know,  
Which shall be meet for every man to mark:  
Our lust and wills our evils chiefly work.   

It may be well that Planets do incline,  
And our complexions move our minds to ill,  
But such is reason, that they bring to fine  
No work unayded of our lust and will:  
For heaven and earth are subject both to skill.  
The will of God rul'th all it is so strong,  
Man may by skill guide things that to him long.   

Though lust be stout, and will inclined to nought,  
This forced by mixture, that by heavens course,  
Yet through the grace God hath in reason wrought  
And given man, no lust nor will to course,  
But may be stayed or suaged of the source,  
So that it shall in nothing force the mind  
To work our woe, or leave the proper kind.   

But though this grace be given to some man  
To rule the will, and keep the mind aloft,  
Yet few there be'mongst men that use it can,  
These worldly pleasures tickle us so oft:  
The spirit weak, and will strong, flesh is soft,  
And yields itself to pleasure that it loveth,  
And hales the mind to that it most reproveth.   

Now if this hap whereby we yield our mind  
To lust and will, be Fortune as we name her,  
Then is she justly called false and blind,  
And no reproach can be too much to blame her:  
Yet is the shame our own when so we shame her,  
For sure this hap if it be rightly known,  
Comes of ourselves, and so the blame our own.   

For whoso liveth in the school of skill,  
And meddleth not with any world's affairs,  
Forsaketh pomps and honours, that do spill  
The minds recourse to Grace's quiet stairs,  
His state no Fortune by no mean appaires:  
For Fortune is the only foe of those  
Which to the world their wretched wills dispose.   

Among which fools (mark Baldwine) I am one,  
That would not stay myself in mine estate:  
I thought to rule but to obey to none,  
And therefore fell I with my King at bate.  
And to the end I might him better mate,  
john Mortimer I caused myself be called,  
Whose kingly blood the Henry's nigh had thralled.   

This shift I used the people to persuade  
To leave their Prince, on my side more to stick,  
Whereas indeed my father's name was Cade,  
Whose noble stock was never worth a stick,  
But touching wit I was both ripe and quick,  
Had strength of limbs large stature, comely face,  
Which made men ween my lineage were not base.   

And seeing stoutness stuck by men in Kent,  
Whose valiant hearts refuse none enterprise,  
With false persuasions strait to them I went,  
And said they suffered too great injuries:  
By mean whereof I caused them to rise,  
And battaile-wise to come to Black Heath plain,  
And thence their griefs unto the King complain.   

Who being deaf (as men say) on that ear,  
For we desired release of subsidies,  
Refused roughly our requests to hear,  
And came against us as his enemies:  
But we to stay him sought out subtleties,  
Removed our Camp, and back to Senock went,  
After whom the Staffords with their power were sent.   

See here how Fortune setting us a float,  
Brought to our nets a portion of our prey.  
For why, the Staffords with their army hot,  
Assailed us at Senocke where we lay:  
From whence alive they parted not away.  
Which when the King's retinue understood,  
They all affirmed my quarrel to be good.   

Which caused the King and Queen whom all did hate,  
To raise their camp, and suddenly depart:  
And that they might the people's grudge abate,  
T'imprison some full sore against their heart.  
Lord Say was one, whom I made after smart,  
For when the Staffords and their host was slain,  
To Blackheath field I marched back again.   

And where the King would nothing hear before,  
Now was he glad to send to know my mind:  
And I thereby inflamed much the more,  
Refused his grants, so folly made me blind,  
For this he flew and left Lord Scales behind,  
To help the Town and strengthen London Tower,  
Towards which I marched forward with my power:   

And found there all things at mine own desire:  
I entered London, did there what I list.  
The Treasurer, Lord Say, I did conspire  
To have condemned: whereof when I missed,  
(For he by law my malice did resist)  
By force I took him in Guildhall from th' heap,  
And headed him before the cross in Cheap.   

His son in law james Cromer Shrief of Kent  
I caught at Mile-end where as then he lay,  
Beheaded him and on a pole I sent  
His head to London where his father's lay.  
With these two heads I made a pretty play,  
For pight on poles I bore them through the street,  
And for my sport made each kiss other sweet.   

Then broke I prisons, let forth whom I would,  
And used the City as it had been mine:  
took from the Merchant's money, ware and gold  
From some by force, from other some by fine.  
This at the length did cause them to repine,  
So that Lord Scales consenting with the More,  
For bad us to their City to repair.   

For all this while mine host in Southwark lay,  
Who when they knew our passage was denied,  
Came boldly to the bridge and made a fray,  
For in we would, the townsmen us defied:  
But when with strokes we had the matter tried,  
We won the bridge and set much part on fire,  
This done to Southwark back we did retire.   

The morrow after came the Chancellor,  
With general pardon for my men, half gone,  
Which heard and read, the rest within an hour,  
Shrank all away each man to shift for one.  
And when I saw they left me post alone,  
I did disguise me like a Knight of the post,  
And into Sussex, road all hope was lost.   

And there I lurked till that cursed coin,  
That restless begle sought and found me out,  
For strait the King by promise did enjoin  
A thousand mark to whomsoever mought  
Apprend my corpse, which made them seek about:  
Among the which one Alexander Iden  
Found out the hole, wherein the Fox was hidden.   

But ere I fell, I put him to his trumps,  
For yield I would not while my hands would hold,  
But hope of money made him stir his stumps,  
And to assault me valiantly and bold.  
Two hours and more our combat was not cold,  
Till at the last he lent me such a stroke,  
That down I fell and never after spoke.   

Then was my carcase carried like a hog,  
To Southwark borrow where it lay a night,  
The next day drawn to Newgate like a dog,  
All men rejoicing at the rueful sight:  
Then were on poles my parboiled quarters pight,  
And set aloft for vermin to devour,  
Meet grave for rebels that resist the power.   

Full little know we wretches what we do,  
When we presume our Princes to resist.  
We war with God, against his glory to,  
That placeth in his office whom he list:  
Therefore was never traitor yet but missed  
The mark he shot, and came to shameful end,  
Nor never shall till God be forced to bend.   

God hath ordained the power, all Princes be  
His Lieutenants or deputies in Realms,  
Against their foes therefore fighteth he,  
And as his enemies drives them to extremes,  
Their wise devices prove but doltish dreams.  
No subject aught for any kind of cause  
To force the Prince, but yield him to the laws.   

Wherefore O Baldwine warn men follow reason,  
Subdue their wills, and be not Fortune's slaves,  
A shameful end doth ever follow treason,  
There is no trust in rebels, rascal knaves,  
In Fortune less, which worketh as the waves:  
From whose assaults who listeth to stand free  
Must follow skill, and so contented be.   W. Baldwine.  

THE TRAGEDY OF EDMUND DUKE OF SOMERSET, SLAIN IN THE FIRST battle at Saint Albans, the 23. day of May, in the 32. year of Henry the sixth, Anno Dom. 1454.  

SOme I suppose are borne unfortunate,  
Else good endeavours could not ill succeed,  
What shall I call it? ill fortune or fate,  
That some men's attempts have never good speed,  
Their travel thankless, all bootless their heed,  
Where other unlike in working or skill,  
Out wrestle the world, and weald it at will.   

Of the first number I count myself one,  
To all mishap I ween predestinate,  
Believe me Baldwine there be few or none,  
To whom Fortune was ever more ingrate.  
Make thou therefore my life a caveate,  
That whose with force will work against kind,  
Saileth (as who saith) against the stream and wind.   

For I of Somerset Duke Edmund hight,  
Extract by descent from Lancaster line,  
Were it by folly, or Fortune's despite,  
Or by ill aspect of some crooked sign,  
Of mine attempts could never see good fine:  
What so I began did seldom well end:  
God from such Fortune all good men defend.   

Where I thought to save, most part I did spill,  
For good hap with me was always at war.  
The lineage of York whom I bore so ill,  
By my spite became bright as the morning star.  
Thus some while men make when fain they would mar,  
The more ye lop trees, the greater they grow,  
The more ye stop streams, the higher they flow.   

Maugre my spite, his same grew the more,  
And mine, as the Moon in the wane, waxed less:  
For having the place which he had before,  
Governor of France, needs I must confess,  
That lost was Normandy without redress,  
Yet wrought I always that wit might contrive,  
But what doth it boot with the stream to strive?   

Borne was I neither to war ne to peace,  
For Mars was malign to all my whole trade:  
My birth I believe was in Ioues decrease,  
When Cancer in his course being retrograde,  
Declined from Sol to Saturnus shade,  
Where aspects were good, opposites did mar,  
So grew mine unhap both in peace and war.   

A strange nativity in calculation,  
As all my lives course did after well declare,  
Whereof in brief to make relation,  
That other by me may learn to beware,  
Overlight credence was cause of my care,  
And want of foresight in giving assent  
To condemn Humphrey that Duke innocent.   

Humphrey I mean that was the Protector,  
Duke of Gloucester of the royal blood,  
So long as he was England's director,  
King Henry's title to the Crown was good.  
This Prince as a pillar most steadfastly stood,  
Or like a prop set under a vine,  
In state to uphold all Lancaster's line.   

O heedless trust, unware of harm to come,  
O malice headlong swift to serve fond will,  
Did ever madness man so much benumb  
Of prudent forecast, reason, wit, and skill,  
As me blind Bayard consenting to spill  
The blood of my cousin, my refuge and stay,  
To my destruction making open way?   

So long as the Duke bore the stroke and sway,  
So long no Rebels quarrels durst begin:  
But when the post was pulled once away,  
Which stood to uphold the King and his kin,  
York and his banders proudly pressed in  
To challenge the Crown by title of right,  
Beginning with law and ending with might.   

Abroad went bruits in country and town  
That York of England was the heir true,  
And how Henry had usurped the Crown  
Against all right, which all the Realm might rue.  
The people then embracing titles new,  
Irksome of present and longing for change,  
Assented soon because they love to range.   

True is the text which we in scripture read,  
Va terra illi, cuius rex est puer,  
Woe to that land whereof a child is head,  
Whether child or childish, the case is one sure:  
Where Kings be young, we daily see in ure,  
The people awlesse, by weakness of their head,  
Lead their lives lawless, having none to dread.   

And no less true is this text again,  
Beata terra cuius rex est nobilis,  
Blest is the land where a stout King doth rain,  
Where in good peace each man possesseth his,  
Where ill men fear to fault or do amiss,  
Where a stout Prince is priest, with sword in hand,  
At home and abroad his enemies to withstand.   

In case King Henry had been such a one,  
Hardy and stout as his fathers afore,  
Long mought he have sat in the royal throne,  
Without any fear of common uproar.  
But daily his weakness showed more and more,  
Which boldness gave to the adversary band,  
To spoil him at last both of life and land.   

His humble heart was nothing unknown,  
To the gallants of York and their retinue:  
A ground lying low is soon overflown,  
And shored houses cannot long continue:  
joints cannot knit where as is no sinew.  
And so a Prince, not dread as well as loved,  
Is from his place by practice soon removed.   

Well mought I see, had I not wanted brain,  
The work begun to undermine the state,  
When the chief link was loosed from the chain,  
And that some durst upon blood royal grate.  
How tickle a hold had I of mine estate?  
When the chief post lay flat upon the flore,  
Mought not I think my staff then next the door?   

So mought I also dame Margaret the Queen,  
By mean of whom this mischief first began,  
Did she (trow ye) herself not over ween  
Death to procure to that most worthy man?  
Which she and hers afterward mought well ban,  
On whom did hang (as I before have said)  
Her husband's life, his honour and his aid.   

For whilst he lived which was our stable stay,  
York and his imps were kept as under yoke,  
But when the Pillar removed was away,  
Then burst out flame, that late before was smoke,  
The traitor covert then cast off his cloak,  
And from his den came forth in open light,  
With titles blind which he set forth for right.   

But this to bring about, him first behoved  
The King and his kin asunder for to set:  
Who being perforce or practise removed,  
Then had they avoided the principal let,  
Which kept the sought pray so long from the net:  
The next point after, was, themselves to place  
In rule above the rest, next unto his Grace.   

Therefore was I first whom they put out of place,  
No cause pretending but the commonweal,  
The Crown of England was the very case,  
Why to the Commons they burned so in zeal.  
My faults were cloaks their practice to conceal,  
In counsel hearing consider the intent,  
For in pretence of truth treason oft is meant.   

So their pretence was only to remove  
Counsel corrupt from place about the King.  
But O ye Princes, you it doth behove  
This case to construe as no feigned thing,  
That never traitor did subdue his King,  
But for his plat, ere he could surder wade,  
Against his friends the quarrel first he made.   

And if by hap he could so bring about,  
Them to subdue at his own wish and will,  
Then would he wax so arrogant and stout,  
That no reason his outrage might fulfil,  
But to proceed upon his purpose still  
Till King and counsel brought were in one case:  
Such is their folly to rebels to give place.   

So for the fish casting forth a net,  
The next point was in driving out the plat,  
Commons to cause in rage to fume and fret,  
And to rebel, I cannot tell for what,  
Requiring redress of this and of that:  
Who if they speed, the slander at receipt  
Grasp will the pray, for which he doth await.   

Then by surmise of some thing pretended,  
Such to displace as they may well suspect,  
Like to withstand their mischief intended,  
And in their rooms their banders to elect,  
The adverse party proudly to reject,  
And then with reports the simple to abuse,  
And when these helps fail, open force to use.   

So this Duke's trains were covert and not seen,  
Which meant no less, that he most pretended,  
Like to a Serpent covert under green,  
To the weal public seemed wholly bended:  
Zealous he was, and would have all things mended,  
But by that mendment nothing else he meant  
But to be King, to that mark was his bent.   

For had he been plain, as he meant indeed,  
Henry to depose from the royal place,  
His haste had been waste, and much worse his speed,  
The King then standing in his people's grace.  
This Duke therefore set forth a goodly face,  
As one that meant no quarrel for the Crown,  
Such as bare rule he only would put down.   

But all for nought so long as I bare stroke  
Served these drifts, and proved all vain:  
The best help than was people to provoke,  
To make commotion and uproars amain:  
Which to appease the King himself was fain,  
From Black Heath in Kent to send me to the Tower,  
Such was the force of rebels in that hour.   

The troublous storm yet therewith was not ceased,  
For York was bend his purpose to pursue,  
Who seeing how speedily I was released,  
And ill success of sufferance to ensue:  
Then like judas unto his Lord untrue,  
Esteeming time lost any longer to defer,  
By Warwick's aid proclaimed open war.   

At S. Albans town both our hosts did meet,  
Which to try a field was no equal place,  
Forced we were to fight in every lane and street,  
No fear of foes could make me shun the place:  
There I and Warwick fronted face to face,  
At an Inn door, the Castle was the sign,  
Where with a sword was cut my fatal line.   

Oft was I warned to come in Castle none,  
Having no mistrust of any common sign,  
I did imagine a Castle built with stone,  
For of no Inn I could the same divine:  
In Prophet's skill my wit was never fine,  
A fool is he that such vain dreams doth dread,  
And more fool he that will by them be led.   

My life I lost in that unluckily place,  
With many Lords that leaned to my part:  
The stout Earl Percy had no better grace,  
Clyfford courageous could not shun the dart,  
Buckingham heir was at this mortal mart,  
Babthorp th' Attorney with his skill in law,  
In pleading here appeared very raw.   

King Henry thus disarmed of his bands,  
His friends and followers wanting assistance,  
Was made a prey unto his enemy's hands,  
Deprived of power and Princely reverence,  
And as a pupil void of all experience,  
Innocent plain, and simply witted,  
Was as a Lamb unto the Wolf committed.   

A Parliament than was called with speed,  
A Parliament? nay, a plain conspiracy,  
When against right it was decreed,  
That after the death of the sixth Henry.  
York should succeed unto the regalty,  
And in his life the charge and protection,  
Of King and Realm at the Duke's direction.   

And thus was York declared Protector,  
Protector said I? nay, Proditor plain:  
A rank rebel the Prince's director,  
A vassal to lead his Lord and Sovereign.  
What honest heart would not conceive disdain  
To see the foot surmount above the head?  
A monster is in spite of nature bred.   

Some happily here will move a farther doubt,  
And as for York's part allege an elder right:  
O brainless heads that so run in and out.  
When length of time a state hath firmly pight,  
And good accord hath put all strife to flight,  
Were it not better such titles still to sleep,  
Then all a Realm about the trial weep?   

From the female came York, and all his seed,  
And we of Lancaster from the heir male,  
Of whom three Kings in order did succeed,  
By just descent: this is no feigned tale.  
Who would have thought that any storm or gale  
Our ship could shake, having such anchor hold?  
None I think sure, unless that God so would.   

After this hurl the King was fain to flee  
Northward in post, for succour and relief!  
O blessed God how strange it was to see,  
A rightful Prince pursued as a thief:  
To thee O England, what can be more repreefe?  
Then to pursue thy Prince with armed hand,  
What greater shame may be to any land?   

Traitors did triumph, true men lay in dust,  
Reuing and robbing roifled every where,  
Will stood for skill, and law obeyed lust,  
Might trodden down right, of King there was no fear,  
The title was tried only by shield and spear.  
All which unhaps that they were not foreseen,  
Suffolk was in fault, who ruled King and Queen.   

Some here perhaps, do look I should accuse  
Myself of sleight, or subtlety unjust,  
Wherein I should my Prince's ears abuse  
Against the Duke, to bring him in mistrust:  
Some part whereof, though needs confess I must,  
My fault only consisted in consent,  
Leaning to my foes, whereof I do repent.   

If I at first when brands began to smoke,  
The sparks to quench by any way had sought,  
Never had England felt this mortal stroke,  
Which now too late lamenting helpeth nought.  
Two points of wit, too dearly have I bought,  
The first, that better is timely to foresee,  
Then after over late a counsellor to be.   

The second is, not easily to assent  
To advice given against thy faithful friend,  
But of the speaker ponder the intent,  
The meaning full, the point, and final end.  
A Saint in show, in proof is found a Fiend,  
The subtle man the simple to abuse,  
Much pleasant speech and eloquence doth use.   

And so was I abused and other more  
By Suffolk's sleights, who sought to please the Queen,  
Forecasting not the misery and woe  
Which therefore came, and soon was after seen:  
With glozing tongue he made us fools to ween,  
That Humphrey did to England's Crown aspire,  
Which to prevent, his death they did conspire.   

What should I more of mine unhaps declare,  
Whereof my death at last hath made an end?  
Not I alone was void of all this care,  
Some besides me there were that did offend.  
None I accuse, nor yet myself defend,  
Faults I know I had, as none lives without,  
My chief fault was folly, I put thee out of doubt.   

Folly was the chief, the naughty time was next,  
Which made my Fortune subject to the chief:  
If England then with strife had not been vexed,  
Glory might have grown whereas ensued grief.  
Yet one thing is my comfort and relief,  
Constant I was in my Prince's quarrel  
To die or live, and spared for no apparel.   

What though Fortune envious was my foe?  
A noble heart ought not the sooner yield,  
Nor shrink aback for any weal or woe,  
But for his Prince lie bleeding in the field:  
If privy spite at any time me held,  
The price is paid: and grievous is my guerdon,  
As for the rest me God (I trust) will pardon.   G. Ferrer.  

HOW RICHARD PLANTAGENET DUKE OF YORK, was slain through his over rash boldness, and his son the Earl of Rutland, for his lack of valiance, An. Dom. 1460.  

TRust not in chance, in whom was never trust,  
Of foolish men that have no better grace,  
All rest, renown and deeds lie in the dust,  
Of all the sort that sue her slipper trace.  
What meanest thou Baldwine for to hide thy face?  
Thou needest not fear although I miss my head,  
Nor yet to mourn for this my son is dead.   

The cause why thus I lead him in my hand,  
His skin with blood and tears so sore bestained,  
Is that thou mayst the better understand,  
How hardly Fortune hath for us ordained,  
In whom her love and hate be whole contained.  
For I am Richard Prince Plantagenet,  
The Duke of York in royal race beget.   

From Lionel the third begotten son  
Of Kingly Edward by descent I came  
From Philip hight his heir we first begun  
The crown as due to us by right to claim:  
And in the end we did obtain the same,  
She was sole heir by due descent of line,  
Whereby her rights and titles all were mine.   

But mark me now, I pray thee Baldwine mark,  
And see how force oft overbeareth right:  
Way how usurpers tyrannously work,  
To keep by murder that they get by might,  
And note what troublous dangers do alight  
On such as seek to repossess their own,  
And how through rigour, right is overthrown.   

The Duke of Herford, Henry Bolenbroke,  
Of whom Duke Mowbray told thee now of late,  
When void of cause he had King Richard took:  
He murdered him, usurped his estate,  
Without all right or title, saving hate  
Of others rule, or love to rule alone:  
These two excepted, title had he none.   

The Realm and Crown was Edmund Mortimer,  
Whose father Roger was King Richard's heir:  
Which caused Henry and the Lancaster's  
To seek all shift our households to appair,  
For sure he was to sit beside the chair,  
Were we of power to claim our lawful right,  
Against us therefore he did all he might.   

His cursed son ensued his cruel path,  
And kept my guiltless cousin straight in durance:  
For whom my father hard entreated hath.  
But living hopeless of his lives assurance,  
He thought it best by politic procurance,  
To slay the King, and so restore his friend:  
Which brought himself to an infamous end.   

For when King Henry of that name the fifth,  
Had ta'en my father in his conspiracy,  
He from Sir Edmund all the blame to shift,  
Was fain to say the French King Charles his alley  
Had hired him this traitorous act to try,  
For which condemned shortly he was slain,  
In helping right this was my father's gain.   

Thus when the lineage of the Mortimers  
Was made away by his usurping line,  
Some hanged, some slain, some pined prisoners,  
Because the Crown by right of law was mine,  
They 'gan as fast against me to repine,  
In fear always lest I should stir some strife,  
For guilty hearts have never quiet life,   

Yet at the last in Henry's days the sixth,  
I was restored to my father's lands,  
Made Duke of York: where through my mind I fixed  
To get the Crown and Kingdom in my hands,  
For aid wherein I knit assured bands  
With Nevil's stock, whose daughter was my make,  
Who for no woe would ever me forsake.   

O Lord what hap had I through marriage,  
Four goodly boys in youth my wife she bore,  
Right valiant men and prudent for their age,  
Such brethren she had and nephews in store  
As none had erst, nor any shall have more:  
The Earl of Salisbury, and his son of Warwick,  
Were matchless men from Barbary to Berwick.   

Through help of whom and Fortunes lovely look,  
I undertook to claim my lawful right,  
And to abash such as against me took,  
I raised power at all points priest to fight:  
Of whom the chief that chiefly bore me spite,  
Was Somerset the Duke, whom to annoy  
I always sought, through spite, spite to destroy.   

And maugre him, so choice lo was my chance,  
Yea though the Queen that all ruled took his part,  
I twice bare rule in Normandy and France,  
And last Lieutenant in Ireland, where my heart  
Found remedy for every kind of smart.  
For through the love my doings there did breed,  
I had their help at all times in my need.   

This spiteful Duke, his silly King and Queen,  
With armed hosts I thrice met in the field,  
The first unsought through treaty made between,  
The second joined, wherein the King did yield,  
The Duke was slain, the Queen enforced to shield  
Herself by flight. The third the Queen did fight,  
Where I was slain being over matched by might.   

Before this last were other battles three:  
The first the Earl of Salisbury led alone,  
And fought on Bloreheath, and got victory:  
In the next I with kinsfolk every one.  
But seeing our soldiers stale unto our fone,  
We warily broke our company on a night,  
Dissolved our host, and took ourselves to flight.   

This Boy and I in Ireland did us save,  
Mine eldest son with Warwick and his father  
To Calais got, whence by the read I gave  
They came again to London, and did gather  
An other host, whereof I spoke no rather:  
And met our foes, flew many a Lord and Knight,  
And took the King and drove the Queen to flight.   

This done I came to England all in haste,  
To make a claim unto the Realm and Crown:  
And in the house while parliament did last,  
I in the King's seat boldly sat me down,  
And claimed it, whereat the Lords did frown,  
But what for that? I did so well proceed,  
That all at last confessed it mine indeed.   

But sith the King had reigned now so long,  
They would he should continue till he died,  
And to the end that then none did me wrong,  
In each place heir apparent they me cried.  
But sith the Queen and others this denied,  
I sped me towards the North where then she lay,  
In mind by force to cause her to obey.   

Whereof she warned prepared a mighty power,  
And ere that mine were altogether ready,  
Came swift to Sandale and besieged my bower:  
Where like a beast I was so rash and heady,  
That out I would, there could be no remedy,  
With scant five thousand soldiers, to assail  
Four times so many, encamped to most avail.   

And so was slain at first: and while my child  
Scarce twelve year old, sought secretly to part,  
That cruel Clifford, Lord, nay Lorell wild  
While th' infant wept, and prayed him rue his smart,  
Knowing what he was, with dagger clove his heart:  
This done, he came to th' camp where I lay dead,  
Despoiled my corpse and cut away my head.   

Which with a painted paper Crown thereon,  
He for a present sent unto the Queen:  
And she for spite commanded it anon  
To York fast by: where, that it might be seen,  
They placed it where other traitors been.  
This mischief Fortune did me after death.  
Such was my life, and such my loss ofbreath.   

Wherefore see Baldwine that thou set it forth,  
To th' end the fraud of Fortune may be known,  
That eke all Princes well may weigh the worth  
Of things, for which the seeds of war be sown:  
No state so sure but soon is overthrown.  
No worldly good can counterpoise the prize,  
Of half the pains that may thereof arise.   

Better it were to lose a piece of right,  
Then limbs and life in striving for the same:  
It is not force of friendship nor of might,  
But God that causeth things to fro or frame,  
Not wit but luck doth wield the winners game.  
Wherefore if we our follies would refrain,  
Time would redress all wrongs we void of pain.   

Wherefore warn Princes not to wade in war  
For any cause except the realms defence:  
Their troublous titles are unworthy far  
The blood, the life, the spoil of innocence:  
Of friends, of foes behold my foul expense,  
And never the near: best therefore tarry time,  
So right shall reign, and quiet calm each crime.    

HOW THE LORD CLIFFORD FOR HIS STRANGE and abominable cruelty, came to as strange and sudden a death, Anno, 1461.  

OPen confession asketh open penance,  
And wisdom would a man his shame to hide:  
Yet sith forgiveness cometh through repentance,  
I think it best that men their crimes ascride,  
For nought so secret but at length is spied:  
For cover fire, and it will never linne  
Till it break forth, in like case shame and sin.   

As for myself my faults be out so plain,  
And published abroad in every place,  
That though I would I cannot hide a grain.  
All care is bootless in a cureless case,  
To learn by others grief some have the grace:  
And therefore Baldwine write my wretched fall,  
The brief whereof I briefly utter shall.   

I am the same that slew Duke Richard's child,  
The lovely babe that begged life with tears:  
Whereby mine honour foully I defiled.  
Poor silly Lambs the Lion never tears:  
The feeble mouse may lie among the bears:  
But wrath of man his rancour to requite,  
Forgets all reason, ruth, and virtue quite.   

I mean by rancour the parental wreak  
Surnamed a virtue (as the vicious say)  
But little know the wicked what they speak,  
In boldening us our enemies kin to slay.  
To punish sin is good, it is no nay.  
They wreak not sin, but merit wreak for sin,  
That wreak the father's fault upon his kin.   

Because my father Lord john Clyfford died,  
Slain at Saint Albans, in his Prince's aid,  
Against the Duke my heart for malice fried,  
So that I could from wreck no way be stayed,  
But to avenge my father's death, assayed  
All means I might the Duke of York t'annoy,  
And all his kin and friends for to destroy.   

This made me with my bloody dagger wound  
His guiltless son, that never 'gainst me stored:  
His father's body lying dead on ground  
To pierce with spear, eke with my cruel sword  
To part his neck, and with his head to board  
Enuested with a royal paper crown,  
From place to place to bear it up and down.   

But cruelty can never scape the scourge  
Of shame, of horror, or of sudden death.  
Repentance self that other sins may purge  
Doth fly from this, so sore the soul it slayeth.  
Despair dissolves the tyrant's bitter breath:  
For sudden vengeance suddenly alights  
On cruel deeds, to quite their cruel spites.   

This find I true, for as I lay in stale  
To fight with this Duke Richard's eldest son,  
I was destroyed not far from Dintingdale,  
For as I would my gorget have undone  
T'euent the heat that had me nigh undone,  
An headless arrow struck me through the throat,  
Where through my soul forsook his filthy cote.   

Was this a chance? no sure, God's just award,  
Wherein due justice plainly doth appear:  
An headless arrow paid me my reward,  
For heading Richard lying on his bear,  
And as I would his child in no wise hear,  
So sudden death bereft my tongue the power  
To ask for pardon at my dying hour.   

Wherefore, good Baldwine, warn the bloody sort,  
To leave their wrath, their rigour to refrain:  
Tell cruel judges horror is the port  
Through which they sail to shame and sudden pain:  
Hell halleth tyrants down to death amain.  
Was never yet nor shall be cruel deed  
Left unrewarded with as cruel meed.    

THE INFAMOUS END OF THE LORD TIPTOFT EARL OF WORcester, for cruelly executing his Princes butcherly commandments. Anno Dom. 1470.  

THe glorious man is not so loath to lurk,  
As the infamous glad to lie unknown:  
Which makes me Baldwine, disallow thy work,  
Where Princes faults so openly be blown.  
I speak not this alonely for mine own  
Which were my Princes (if that they were any)  
But for my Peers in number very many.   

Or might report uprightly use her tongue,  
It would less grieve us to augment the matter.  
But sure I am thou shalt be forced among,  
To wrench the truth the living for to flatter:  
And other while in points unknown to smatter.  
For time near was, nor near I think shall be  
That truth unshent should speak in all things free.   

This doth appear (I dare say) by my story,  
Which divers writers diversly declare:  
But story writers ought for neither glory,  
Fear, nor favour, truth of things to spare.  
But still it fares as always it did far,  
Affections, fear, or doubts that daily brew,  
Do cause that stories never can be true.   

Unfruitful Fabian followed the face  
Of time and deeds, but let the causes slip:  
Which Hall hath added, but with double grace,  
For fear I think lest trouble might him trip:  
For this or that (saith he) he felt the whip.  
Thus story writers leave the causes out,  
Or so rehearse them as they were in doubt.   

But seeing causes are the chiefest things  
That should be noted of the story writers,  
That men may learn what ends all causes brings,  
They be unworthy name of Chroniclers  
That leave them clean out of their registers,  
Or doubtfully report them: for the fruit  
Of reading stories standeth in the suit.   

And therefore Baldwine either speak upright  
Of our affairs, or touch them not at all:  
As for myself I way all things so light,  
That nought I pass how men report my fall.  
The truth whereof yet plainly show I shall,  
That thou mayst write and others thereby reed,  
What things I did whereof they should take heed.   

Thou heardst of Tiptofts Earls of Worcester,  
I am that Lord that lived in Edward's days  
The fourth, and was his friend and counsellor,  
And butcher too, as common rumour says.  
But people's voice is neither shame nor praise:  
For whom they would alive devour today,  
Tomorrow dead they'ill worship what they may.   

But though the people's verdict go by chance,  
Yet was there cause to call me as they did:  
For I enforced by mean of governance,  
Did execute what ere my King did bid,  
From blame herein myself I cannot rid:  
But fie upon the wretched state that must  
Defame itself to serve the Prince's lust.   

The chiefest crime wherewith men do me charge,  
Is death of th' Earl of Desmunds' noble sons,  
Of which the King's charge doth me clear discharge,  
By straight commandment and injunctions:  
Th' effect whereof so rigorously runs,  
That or I must procure to see them dead,  
Or for contempt as guilty lose my head.   

What would mine foemen do in such a case,  
Obey the King or proper death procure?  
They may well say their fancy for a face,  
But life is sweet, and love hard to recure.  
They would have done as I did, I am sure:  
For seldom will a wealthy man at ease  
For others cause his Prince in aught displease.   

How much less I, which was Lieutenant than  
In th' Irish Isle, preferred by the King:  
But who for love or dread of any man  
Consents t'accomplish any wicked thing,  
Although chief fault thereof from other spring,  
Shall not escape God's vengeance for his deed,  
Who scuseth none that dare do ill for dread.   

This in my King and me may well appear,  
Which for our faults did not escape the scourge:  
For when we thought our state most sure and clear,  
The wind of Warwick blew up such a sourge,  
As from the Realm and Crown the King did purge,  
And me both from mine office, friends, and wife,  
From good report, from honest death and life.   

For th' Earl of Warwick through a cankered grudge  
Which to King Edward causeless he did bear,  
Out of his Realm by force did make him trudge,  
And set King Henry again upon his chair.  
And then all such as Edward's lovers were  
As traitors ta'en, were grievously oppressed,  
But chiefly I, because I loved him best.   

And, for my goods and livings were not small,  
The gapers for them bore the world in hand  
For ten years space, that I was cause of all  
The executions done within the land.  
For this did such as did not understand  
Mine enemies drift, think all reports were true:  
And so did hate me worse than any Iew.   

For seldom shall a ruler lose his life,  
Before false rumours openly be spread:  
Whereby this proverb is as true as rife,  
That rulers rumours hunt about a head,  
Frown Fortune once all good report is fled:  
For present show doth make the many blind,  
And such as see dare not disclose their mind.   

Through this was I King Edward's butcher named,  
And bore the shame of all his cruel deeds:  
I clear me not, I worthily was blamed,  
Though force was such I must obey him needs.  
With highest rulers seldom well it speeds,  
For they be ever nearest to the nip,  
And fault who shall, for all feel they the whip.   

For when I was by Parliament attainted,  
King Edward's evils all were counted mine.  
No truth availed, so lies were fast and painted,  
Which made the people at my life repine,  
Crying Crucifige, kill that butcher's line:  
That when I should have gone to Blockham feast,  
I could not pass, so sore they on me priest.   

And had not been the officers so strong,  
I think they would have eaten me alive,  
Howbeit hardly haled from the throng,  
I was in Fleet fast shrouded by the Shrive.  
Thus one days life their maliee did me give:  
Which when they knew, for spite the next day after  
They kept them calm, so suffered I the slaughter.   

Now tell me Baldwine, what fault dost thou find  
In me, that justly should such death deserve?  
None sure, except desire of honour blind,  
Which made me seek in offices to serve:  
What mind so good that honours make not swerver?  
So mayst thou fee it only was my state  
That caused my death, and brought me so in hate.   

Warn therefore all men wisely to beware,  
What offices they enterprise to bear:  
The highest always most maligned are,  
Of people's grudge, and Princes hate in fear.  
For Prince's faults his faultors all men tear.  
Which to avoid, let none such office take,  
Save he that can for right his Prince forsake.    

HOW SIR RICHARD NEVIL EARL OF WARWICK, AND HIS BROTHER JOHN Lord Marquis Montacute, through their too much boldness were slain at Barnet, the 14. of April, Anno 1471.  

AMong the heavy heap of happy Knights  
Whom Fortune staled upon her stayless stage,  
Oft hoist on high, oft pight in wretched plights,  
Behold me, Baldwine, A pierce of my age,  
Lord Richard Nevil, Earl by marriage  
Of Warwick Duchy, of Sarum by descent,  
Which erst my father through his marriage hent.   

Wouldst thou behold false Fortune in her kind?  
Note well myself, so shalt thou see her naked:  
Full fair before, but too too foul behind,  
Most drowsy still when most she seems awaked:  
My fame and shame her shift full oft hath shaked,  
By interchange allow and up aloft,  
The Lysard like that changeth hue full oft.   

For while the Duke of York in life remained  
Mine uncle dear, I was his happy hand:  
In all attempts my purpose I attained,  
Though King and Queen and most Lords of the land  
With all their power did often me withstand:  
For God gave Fortune, and my good behaviour  
Did from their Prince steal me the people's favour.   

So that through me in fields right manly fought,  
By force mine uncle took King Henry twice:  
As for my cousin Edward I so wrought,  
When both our fires were slain through rash advice,  
That he achieved his father's enterprise:  
For into Scotland King and Queen we chased,  
By mean whereof the Kingdom he embraced.   

Which after he had held in quiet peace,  
(For shortly after was King Henry take,  
And put in hold) his power to increase,  
I went to France and match him with a make,  
The French kings daughter, whom he did forsake:  
For while with pain I brought this suit to pass,  
He to a widow rashly wedded was.   

This made the French King shrewdly to mistrust,  
That all my treaties had but ill pretence,  
And when I saw my King so bend to lust,  
That with his faith he passed not to dispense,  
Which is a Prince's honours chief defence:  
I could not rest till I had found a mean  
To mend his miss, or else to mar him clean.   

ay me allied with his brother George,  
Incensing him his brother to malign,  
Through many a tale I did against him forge:  
So that through power that we from Calais bring  
And found at home, we frayed so the King,  
That he did fly to Freeselandward amain,  
Whereby King Henry had the Crown again.   

Then put we th' Earl of Worcester to death,  
King Edward's friend, a man lo foul defamed:  
And in the while came Edward into breath.  
For with the Duke of Burgoine so he framed,  
That with the power that he to him had named,  
Unlooked for he came to England straight,  
And got to York, and took the town by sleight.   

And after through the sufferance of my brother,  
Which like a beast occasion foully lost,  
He came to London safe with many other,  
And took the town to good King Henry's cost:  
Who was through him from post to pillar tossed,  
Till th' Earl of Oxford, I and other more,  
Assembled power his freedom to restore.   

Whereof King Edward warned came with speed,  
And camped with his host in Barnet town,  
Where we right fierce encountered him indeed  
On Easter day right early on the down:  
There many a man was slain and stricken down  
On either side, and neither part did gain,  
Till that I and my brother both were slain.   

For we to heart our overmatched men,  
Forsook our steeds, and in the thickest throng  
Ran pressing forth on foot, and fought so then  
That down we drove them were they near so strong:  
But we ere luck had lasted very long  
With force and number were so foully cloyed,  
And rescue failed, that quite we were destroyed.   

Now tell me, Baldwine, hast thou heard or read  
Of any man that did as I have done?  
That in his time so many armies led,  
And victory at every voyage won?  
Hast thou ere heard of subject under sun,  
That placed and baced his Sovereigns so oft  
By interchange, now low, and then aloft?   

Perchance thou think'st my doings were not such  
As I and other do affirm they were:  
And in thy mind I see thou musest much  
What means I used, that should me so prefer:  
Wherein because I will thou shalt not err,  
The truth of all I will at large recite,  
The short is this: I was no Hypocrite.   

I never did nor said save what I meant,  
The commonweal was still my chiefest care:  
To private gain or good was I near bend,  
I never passed upon delicious fare.  
Of needful food my board was never bare,  
No creditor did curse me day by day,  
I used plainness, ever pitch and pay.   

I heard poor soldiers and poor workmen whine  
Because their duties were not truly paid:  
Again I saw how people did repine  
At those through whom their payment was delayed:  
And proof did oft assure (as Scripture said)  
That God doth wreak the wretched peoples grieves,  
I saw the poles cut off from polling thieves.   

This made me always justly for to deal,  
Which when the people plainly understood,  
Because they saw me mind the Commonweal,  
They still endeavoured how to do me good,  
Ready to spend their substance, life, and blood,  
In any cause whereto I did them move:  
For sure they were it was for their behove.   

And so it was. For when the Realm decayed  
By such as good King Henry sore abused,  
To mend the state I gave his enemy's aid:  
But when King Edward sinful pranks still used,  
And would not mend, I likewise him refused,  
And holp King Henry, better of the twain,  
And in his quarrel (just I think) was slain.   

And therefore Baldwine teach by proof of me,  
That such as covet people's love to get,  
Must see their works and words in all agree,  
Live liberally and keep them out of det,  
On Commonwealth let all their care be set:  
For upright dealing, debts paid, poor sustained,  
Is mean whereby all hearts are thoroughly gained.    

HOW KING HENRY THE sixth, A VIRTUOUS PRINCE, WASPE, AFter many other miseries, cruelly murdered in the Tower of London the 22. of May, Anno, 1471.  

IF ever woeful wight had cause to rue his state,  
Or by his rueful plight to move men moon his fate,  
My piteous plaint may press my mishap to rehearse,  
Whereof the least most lightly heard, the hardest heart may pierce.   

What heart so hard can hear of innocence oppressed  
By fraud in worldly goods, but melteth in the breast?  
When guiltless men be spoiled, imprisoned for their own,  
Who waileth not their wretched case to whom the case is known?   

The Lion licks the sores of silly wounded sheep,  
The dead man's corpse may cause the Crocodile to weep,  
The waves that waste the rocks refresh the rotten reeds,  
Such ruth the wrack of innocence in cruel creatures breeds.   

What heart is then so hard, but will for pity bleed,  
To hear so cruel luck so clear a life succeed?  
To see a silly soul with woe and sorrow sounst,  
A King deprived, in prison penned, to death with daggers dounst.   

Would God the day of birth had brought me to my bear,  
Then had I never felt the change of Fortune's cheer:  
Would God the grave had gripped me in her greedy womb,  
When crown in cradle made me King with oil of holy thumb.   

Would God the rueful tomb had been my royal throne,  
So should no Kingly charge have made me make my moan:  
O that my soul had flown to heaven with the joy,  
When one sort cried, God save the King, another, Vive le Roy.   

So had I not been washed in waves of worldly woe,  
My mind to quiet bend, had not been tossed so:  
My friends had been alive: my subjects not oppressed:  
But death or cruel destiny denied me this rest.   

Alas what should we count the cause of wretch's cares,  
The stars do stir them up, Astronomy declares:  
Our humours saith the leech, the double true divines  
Toth' will of God, or ill of man, the doubtful cause assigns.   

Such doltish heads as dream that all things drive by haps,  
Count lack of former care for cause of after claps,  
Attributing to man a power fro God bereft,  
Abusing us, and robbing him through their most wicked theft.   

But God doth guide the world, and every hap by skill,  
Our wit and willing power are poized by his will:  
What wit most wisely wards, & will most deadly urkes  
Though all our power would press it down, doth dash our ware works.   

Then destiny, our sin, Gods will or else his wreak  
Do work our wretched woes, for humours be too weak,  
Except we take them so as they provoke to sin,  
For through our lust by humours fed all vicious deeds begin.   

So sin and they be one, both working like effect,  
And cause the wrath of God to wreak the soul infect,  
Thus wrath and wreak divine, man's sins and humours ill  
Concur in one, though in a sort, each doth a course fulfil.   

If likewise such as say the welkin Fortune work,  
Take Fortune for our fate and Stars thereof the marks,  
Then destiny with fate and Gods will all be one:  
But if they mean it otherwise, skath causers skies be none.   

Thus of our heavy haps chief causes be but twain,  
Whereon the rest depend, and under put remain:  
The chief the will divine, called destiny and fate,  
The other sin through humours holp, which God doth highly hate.   

The first appointeth pain for good men's exercise,  
The second doth deserve due punishment for vice:  
This witnesseth the wrath, and that the love of God,  
The good for love, the bad for sin God beateth with his rod.   

Although my sundry sins do place me with the worst,  
My haps yet cause me hope to be among the first:  
The eye that searcheth all and seeth every thought,  
Is judge how sore I hated sin, and after virtue sought.   

The solace of my soul my chiefest pleasure was,  
Of worldly pomp, of fame, or game I did not pass:  
My Kingdoms nor my Crown I prised not a crumb:  
In Heaven were my riches heaped, to which I sought to come.   

Yet were my sorrows such as never man had like,  
So divers storms at once, so often did me strike:  
But why, God knows, not I, except it were for this,  
To show by pattern of a Prince, how brittle honour is.   

Our kingdoms are but cares, our state devoid of stay,  
Our riches ready snares, to hasten our decay:  
Our pleasures privy pricks our vices to provoke,  
Our pomp a pump, our fame a flame, our power a smouldering smoke.   

I speak not but by proof, and that may many rue,  
My life doth cry it out, my death doth try it true:  
Whereof I will in brief rehearse the heavy hap,  
That Baldwine in his woeful warp, my wretchedness may wrap.   

In Windsor borne I was, and bore my father's name,  
Who won by war all France to his eternal fame,  
And left to me the crown, to be received in peace  
Through marriage made with Charles his heir upon his life's decease.   

Which shortly did ensue, yet died my father furst,  
And both the Realms were mine ere I a year were nursed:  
Which as they fell too soon, so faded they as fast.  
For Charles and Edward got them both or forty years were passed.   

This Charles was eldest son of Charles my father in law,  
To whom as heir of France, the Frenchmen did them draw,  
But Edward was the heir of Richard Duke of York,  
The heir of Roger Mortimer, slain by the kern of Korke.   

Before I came to age Charles had recovered France,  
And killed my men of war, so happy was his chance:  
And through a mad contract I made with Raynerds daughter  
I gave and lost all Normandy, the cause of many a slaughter.   

First of mine uncle Humphrey, abhorring sore this act,  
Because I thereby broke a better precontract:  
Then of the flattering Duke that first the marriage made,  
The just reward of such as dare their Princes ill persuade.   

And I poor silly wretch abode the brunt of all,  
My marriage lust so sweet was mixed with bitter gall.  
My wife was wise and good, had she been rightly sought,  
But our unlawful getting it, may make a good thing nought.   

Wherefore warn men beware how they just promise break,  
Lest proof of painful plagues do cause them wail the wreak,  
Advise well ere they grant, but what they grant perform:  
For God will plague all doubleness although we feel no worm.   

I falsely borne in hand, believed I did well,  
But all things be not true that learned men do tell:  
My clergy said a Prince was to no promise bound,  
Whose words to be no gospel tho, I to my grief have found.   

For after marriage joined Queen Margaret and me,  
For one mishap afore, I daily met with three:  
Of Normandy and France Charles got away my Crown,  
The Duke of York and other sought at home to put me down.   

Bellona rang the bell at home and all abroad,  
With whose mishaps amain fell Fortune did me load:  
In France I lost my forts, at home the fought field,  
My kindred slain, my friends oppressed, myself enforced to yield.   

Duke Richard took me twice, and forced me to resine  
My Crown and titles due unto my father's line:  
And kept me as a ward, did all things as him list,  
Till that my wife through bloody sword had ta'en me from his fist.   

But though we slew the Duke my sorrows did not slake,  
But like to Hydra's head still more and more awake:  
For Edward through the aid of Warwick and his brother  
From one field drove me to the Scots, and took me in another.   

Then went my friends to wrack, for Edward ware the Crown,  
For which for nine years space his prison held me down:  
Yet thence through Warwick's work I was again released.  
And Edward driven fro the realm to seek his friends by East.   

But what prevaileth pain or providence of man  
To help him to good hap, whom destiny doth ban?  
Who moileth to remove the rock out of the mud,  
Shall mire himself, and hardly scape the swelling of the flood.   

This all my friends have found, and I have felt it so,  
Ordained to be the touch of wretchedness and woe:  
For ere I had a year possessed my seat again,  
I lost both it and liberty, my helpers all were slain.   

For Edward first by stealth and sith by gathered strength  
Arrived, and got to York and London at the length:  
took me and tied me up, yet Warwick was so stout,  
He came with power to Barnet field, in hope to help me out,   

And there alas was slain, with many a worthy knight.  
O Lord that ever such luck should hap in helping right:  
Last came my wife and son, that long lay in exile,  
Defied the King, and fought a field, I may bewail the while.   

For there mine only son, not thirteen years of age,  
Was ta'en, and murdered strait by Edward in his rage:  
And shortly I myself to stint all further strife,  
Stabbed with his brother's bloody blade in prison lost my life.   

Lo here the heavy haps which happened me by heap,  
See here the pleasant fruits that many Princes reap,  
The painful plagues of those that break their lawful bands,  
Their meed which may and will not save their friends from bloody hands.   

God grant my woeful haps, too grievous to rehearse,  
May teach all States to know how deeply dangers pierce,  
How frail all honours are, how brittle worldly bliss,  
That warned through my fearful fate they fear to do amiss.    

HOW GEORGE PLANTAGENET THIRD SON OF THE DUKE OF York, was by his brother King Edward wrongfully imprisoned, and by his brother Richard miserably murdered, the 11. of januarie, An. Dom. 1478.  

THe fowl is foul men say, that files the nest.  
Which makes me loath to speak now, might I choose,  
But seeing time unburdened hath her breast,  
And fame blown up the blast of all abuse,  
My silence rather might my life accuse  
Then shroud our shame, though fain I would it so,  
For truth will out, although the world say no.   

And therefore Baldwine I do thee beseech  
To pause a while upon my heavy plaint,  
And uneath though I utter speedy speech,  
No fault of wit nor folly makes me faint:  
No heady drinks have given my tongue attaint  
Through quaffing craft: Yet wine my wits confound,  
Not that I drank, but wherein I was drowned.   

What Prince I am although I need not show,  
Because my wine bewrays me by the smell:  
For never man was soused in Bacchus' dew  
To death but I, through Fortune's rigour fell:  
Yet that thou mayst my story better tell,  
I will declare as briefly as I may,  
My wealth, my woe, and causers of decay.   

The famous house surnamed Plantagenet,  
Whereat Dame Fortune frowardly did frown,  
While Bolenbroke unjustly sought to set  
His Lord King Richard quite beside the Crown,  
Though many a day it wanted due renown,  
God so preferred by providence and grace,  
That lawful heirs did never fail the race.   

For Lionel King Edward's eldest child,  
Both eme and heir to Richard issueless,  
Begot fair Philip hight, whom undefiled  
The Earl of March espoused, and God did bless  
With fruit assigned the kingdom to possess:  
I mean Sir Roger Mortimer, whose heir  
The Earl of Cambridge married Anne the fair.   

This Earl of Cambridge Richard cleped by name,  
Was son to Edmund Langley Duke of York:  
Which Edmund was fifth brother to the same  
Duke Lionel, that all this line doth korke:  
Of which two houses joined in a fork,  
My father Richard Prince Plantagenet  
True Duke of York was lawful heir beget.   

Who took to wife as ye shall understand  
A maiden of a noble house and old,  
Ralph Nevil's daughter Earl of Westmoreland,  
Whose son Earl Richard was, a Baron bold,  
And had the right of Salisbury in hold,  
Through marriage made with good Earl Thomas heir,  
Whose earned praises never shall appair.   

The Duke my father had by this his wife  
Four sons, of whom the eldest Edward hight,  
The second Edmund, who did lose his life,  
At Wakefield slain by Clyfford cruel Knight,  
I George am third, of Clarence Duke by right:  
The fourth borne to the mischief of us all,  
Was Glocesters' Duke, whom men did Richard call.   

When as our fire in suit of right was slain,  
(Whose life and death himself declared erst)  
My brother Edward plied his cause amain,  
And got the Crown as Warwick hath rehearsed:  
The pride whereof so deep his stomach pierced  
That he forgot his friends, despised his kin,  
Of oath or office passing not a pin.   

Which made the Earl of Warwick to malign  
My brother's state, and to attempt a way  
To bring from prison Henry silly King,  
To help him to the kingdom if he may,  
And knowing me to be the chiefest stay  
My brother had, he did me undermine  
To cause me to his treasons to incline.   

Whereto I was prepared long before,  
My brother had been to me so unkind:  
For sure no canker fretteth flesh so sore,  
As unkind dealing doth a loving mind.  
loves strongest bands unkindness doth unbind,  
It moveth love to malice, zeal to hate,  
Chief friends to foes, and brethren to debate.   

And though the Earl of Warwick subtle fire  
Perceived I bore a grudge against my brother,  
Yet toward his feat to set me more on fire,  
He kindled up one firebrand with another:  
For knowing fancy was the forcing rother  
Which stirreth youth to any kind of strife,  
He offered me his daughter to my wife.   

Where through and with his crafty filled tongue,  
He stole my heart that erst unsteady was:  
For I was witless, wanton, fond and yongue,  
Whole bend to pleasure, brittle as the glass:  
I cannot lie, In vino veritas.  
I did esteem the beauty of my bride  
Above myself and all the world beside.   

These fond affections joint with lack of skill,  
(Which trap the heart, and blind the eyes of youth,  
And prick the mind to practise any ill)  
So tickled me, that void of kindly truth,  
(Which if it want all wretchedness ensueth)  
I stinted not to persecute my brother,  
Till time he left his kingdom to another.   

Thus carnal love did quench the love of kind,  
Till lust were lost through fancy fully fed:  
But when at length I came unto my mind,  
I saw how lewdly lightness had me led,  
To seek with pain the peril of my head:  
For had King Henry once been settled sure,  
I was assured my days could not endure.   

And therefore though I bound myself with oath  
To help King Henry all that ere I might,  
Yet at the treaty of my brethren both,  
Which reason granted to require but right,  
I left his part, whereby he perished quite:  
And reconciled me to my brethren twain,  
And so came Edward to the Crown again.   

This made my fire in law to fret and fume,  
To stamp and stare, and call me false forsworn,  
And at the length with all his power presume,  
To help King Henry utterly forlorn.  
Our friendly proffers still he took in scorn;  
Refused peace, and came to Barnet field,  
And there was killed because he would not yield.   

His brother also there with him was slain,  
Whereby decayed the keys of chivalry:  
For never lived the matches of them twain,  
In manhood, power, and martial policy,  
In virtuous thews, and friendly constancy,  
That would to God if it had been his will  
They might have turned to us and lived still.   

But what shall be shall be: there is no choice,  
Things needs must drive as destiny decreeth,  
For which we ought in all our haps rejoice,  
Because the eye eterne all things foreseeth  
Which to no ill at any time agreeth,  
For il's too ill to us, be good to it,  
So far his skills exceed our reach of wit.   

The wounded man which must abide the smart  
Of stitching up, or searing of his sore,  
As thing too bad, reproves the Surgeon's art  
Which notwithstanding doth his health restore:  
The child likewise to science plied sore,  
Count's knowledge ill, his teacher to be wood,  
Yet Surgery and sciences be good.   

But as the patient's grief and scholars pain,  
Cause them deem bad such things as sure be best,  
So want of wisdom causeth us complain  
Of every hap, whereby we seem oppressed:  
The poor do pine for pelf, the rich for rest,  
And when as loss or sickness us assail  
We curse our fate, our fortune we bewail.   

Yet for our good, God worketh every thing:  
For through the death of these two noble Peers  
My brother lived and reigned a quiet King,  
Who had they lived perchance in course of years  
Would have delivered Henry from the breares,  
Or holp his son t'enjoy the careful Crown,  
Whereby our line should have been quite put down.   

A careful Crown it may be justly named,  
Not only for the cares thereto annexed.  
To see the subject well and duly framed,  
With which good care few Kings are greatly vexed,  
But for the dread wherewith they are perplexed,  
Of losing Lordship, liberty, or life:  
Which woeful wracks in kingdoms happen rife.   

The which to shun while some too sore have sought,  
They have not spared all persons to suspect:  
And to destroy such as they guilty thought,  
Though no appearance proved them infect,  
Take me for one of this wrong punished sect,  
Imprisoned first, accused without cause,  
And done to death, no process had by laws.   

Wherein I note how vengeance doth acquit  
Like ill for ill, how vices virtue quell:  
For as my marriage love did me excite  
Against the King my brother to rebel,  
So love to have his children prosper well,  
Provoked him against both law and right,  
To murder me, his brother and his knight:   

For by his Queen two Pincelike sons he had,  
Borne to be punished for their parent's sin:  
Whose Fortunes calked made the father sad,  
Such woeful haps were found to be therein:  
Which to avouch, writ in a rotten skin  
A prophesy was found, which said a G,  
Of Edward's children should destruction be.   

Me to be G, because my name was George  
My brother thought, and therefore did me hate,  
But woe be to the wicked heads that forge  
Such doubtful dreams to breed unkind debate.  
For God, a Gleve, a Gibbet, Grate, or Gate,  
A Grey, a Griffeth, or a Gregory,  
As well as George are written with a G.   

Such doubtful riddles are no prophecies.  
For prophecies, in writing though obscure,  
Are plain in sense, the dark be very lies:  
What God foreshoweth is evident and pure,  
Truth is no Harold nor no Sophist sure:  
She noteth not men's names, their shields nor crests,  
Though she compare them unto birds and beasts.   

But whom she doth foreshow shall reign by force,  
She terms a Wolf, a Dragon, or a Bear:  
A wilful Prince, a rainelesse raging horse:  
A bold, a Lion: a Coward much in fear,  
A Hare or Hart: a crafty, pricked ear:  
A lecherous, a Bull, a Goat, a Foal:  
An underminer, a Moldwarpe, or a Mole.   

By known beasts thus truth doth plain declare  
What men they be of whom she speaks before.  
And whoso can men's properties compare,  
And mark what beast they do resemble more,  
Shall soon discern who is the grisly Boar.  
For God by beasts expresseth men's conditions,  
And not their badges, Harold's superstitions.   

And learned Merline whom God gave the spirit  
To know and utter Prince's acts to come,  
Like to the jewish Prophets, did recite  
In shade of beasts their doings all and some,  
Expressing plain by manners of the doom,  
That Kings and Lords such properties should have  
As have the beasts whose name he to them gave.   

Which while the foolish did not well consider,  
And seeing Princes gave for difference  
And knowledge of their issues mixed together,  
All manner beasts for badges of pretence,  
There took those badges to express the sense  
Of Merlin's mind, and those that gave the same,  
To be the Princes noted by their name.   

And hereof sprang the false named prophecies,  
That go by letters, ciphers, arms or signs:  
Which all be foolish, false, and crafty lies  
Devised by guess, or guiles untrue divines:  
For when they saw that some of many lines  
Give arms alike, they wist not which was he  
Whom Merline meant the noted beast to be.   

For all the brood of Warwick's gave the Bear,  
The Buckingham's do likewise give the Swan:  
But which Beare-bearer should the Lion tear  
They were as wise as Goose the ferry man:  
Yet in their skill they seized not to scan,  
And to be deemed of the people wise,  
Setforth their gloss upon prophecies.   

And whom they doubted openly to name  
They darkly termed or by some letter meant,  
For so they thought how ere the world did frame,  
To keep themselves from shame or being shent.  
For howsoever contrary it went,  
They might expound their meaning otherwise,  
As haps in things should newly still arise.   

And thus there grew of a mistaken truth,  
An art so false as made the true suspect:  
Whereof hath come much mischief, more the ruth  
That errors should our minds so much infect,  
True Prophets have oft foully been reject:  
The false which breed both murder war and strife  
Believed, to loss of many a good man's life.   

And therefore Baldwine teach men to discern,  
Which prophecies be false, and which be true:  
And for a ground this lesson let them learn,  
That all be false which are devised new.  
The age of things are judged by the hue.  
All riddles made by letters, names or arms,  
Are young and false, far worse than witches charms.   

I know thou musest at this lore of mine,  
How I no student should have learned it:  
And dost impute it to the fume of wine  
That stirs the tongue, and sharpeneth up the wit.  
But hark, a friend did teach me every whit,  
A man of mine, in all good knowledge rife,  
For which he guiltless lost his learned life.   

This man abode my servant many a day,  
And still in study set his whole delight:  
Which taught me more than I could bear away  
Of every art: and by his searching sight  
Of things to come he would foreshow as right  
As I rehearse the pageants that were passed:  
Such perfectness God gave him at the last.   

He knew my brother Richard was the Boar,  
Whose tusks should tear my brother's boys and me,  
And gave me warning thereof long before.  
But wit nor warning can in no degree  
Let things to hap, which are ordained to be.  
Witness the painted Lioness, which slew  
A Prince imprisoned, Lions to eschew.   

He told me eke my yoke-fellow should die,  
(Wherein would God he had been no divine)  
And she being dead I should woe earnestly  
A spouse, whereat my brother would repine,  
And find the means she should be none of mine.  
For which such malice should among us rise,  
As save my death no treaty should decise.   

And as he said, so all things came to pass:  
For when King Henry and his son were slain,  
And every broil so thoroughly quenched was,  
That then my brother quietly did reign,  
I, reconciled to his love again,  
In prosperous health did lead a quiet life,  
For five years space with honours laden rife.   

And to augment the fullness of my bliss,  
Two lovely children by my wife I had:  
But froward hap whose manner ever is  
In chiefest joy to make the happy sad,  
Bemixt my sweet with bitterness too bad:  
For while I swum in joys on every side,  
My loving wife, my chiefest jewel died,   

Whose lack when sole I had bewailed a year,  
The Duke of Burgoines wife dame Margaret  
My loving sister willing me to cheer,  
To wed again did kindly me entreat  
And wished me matched with a maiden neat  
A step-daughter of hers, Duke Charles his heir,  
A noble damsel, young, discreet and fair.   

To whose desire because I did incline,  
The King my brother doubting my degree  
Through Prophecies, against us did repine:  
And at no hand would to our wills agree.  
For which such rancour pierced both him and me,  
That face to face we fell at flat defiance,  
But were appeased by friends of our alliance:   

Howbeit my marriage utterly was dashed:  
Wherein because my servant said his mind,  
A mean was sought whereby he might be lashed,  
And, for they could no crime against him find,  
They forged a salt the people's eyes to blind,  
And told he should by sorceries pretend  
To bring the King unto a speedy end.   

Of all which points he was as innocent  
As is the babe that lacketh kindly breath:  
And yet condemned by the King's assent,  
Most cruelly put to a shameful death.  
This fired my heart, as foulder doth the heath:  
So that I could not but exclaim and cry,  
Against so great and open injury.   

For this I was commanded to the Tower,  
The King my brother was so cruel hearted:  
And when my brother Richard saw the hour  
Was come, for which his heart so sore had smarted,  
He thought it best take time before it parted.  
For he endeavoured to attain the Crown,  
From which my life must needs have held him down.   

For though the King within a while had died,  
As needs he must, he surfaited so oft,  
I must have had his children in my guide,  
So Richard should beside the Crown have coft:  
This made him ply the while the wax was soft,  
To find a mean to bring me to an end,  
For realmrape spareth neither kin nor friend.   

And when he saw how reason can assuage  
Through length of time my brother Edward's ire,  
With forged tales he set him new in rage,  
Till at the last they did my death conspire.  
And though my truth sore troubled their desire,  
For all the world did know mine innocence,  
Yet they agreed to charge me with offence.   

And covertly within the Tower they called  
A quest, to give such verdict as they should.  
Who what with fear and what with favour thralled,  
Durst not pronounce but as my brethren would.  
And though my false accusers never could  
Prove aught they said, I guiltless was condemned:  
Such verdicts pass where justice is contemned.   

This feat atchieud yet could they not for shame  
Cause me be killed by any common way,  
But like a wolf the tyrant Richard came,  
(My brother, nay my butcher I may say)  
Unto the Tower when all men were away,  
Save such as were provided for the seat:  
Who in this wise did strangely me entreat.   

His purpose was with a prepared string  
To strangle me: but I bestirred me so,  
That by no force they could me thereto bring,  
Which caused him that purpose to forego:  
Howbeit they bound me whether I would or no,  
And in a But of Malmsey standing by,  
New christened me because I should not cry.   

Thus drowned I was, yet for no due desert,  
Except the zeal of justice be a crime:  
False prophecies bewitched King Edward's heart,  
My brother Richard to the Crown would climb.  
Note these three causes in thy rueful rhyme,  
And boldly say they did procure my fall,  
And death of deaths most strange and hard of all.   

And warn all Prince's prophecies t'eschew  
That are too dark and doubtful to be known:  
What God hath said, that cannot but ensue,  
Though all the world would have it overthrown,  
When men suppose by fetches of their own  
To fly their fate, they further on the same  
Like quenching blasts which oft revive the flame.   

Will Princes therefore not to think by murder  
They may avoid what prophecies behight,  
But by their means their mischiefs they may further,  
And cause God's vengeance heavier to alight:  
Woe worth the wretch that strives with God's foresight.  
They are not wise, but wickedly do err,  
Which think ill deeds due destinies may bar.   

For if we think that prophecies be true,  
We must believe it cannot but betide,  
Which God in them foreshoweth shall ensue:  
For his decrees unchanged do abide.  
Which to be true my brethren both have tried,  
Whose wicked works warn Princes to detest,  
That others harms may keep them better blest.    

HOW KING EDWARD THE FOURTH THROUGH HIS SURFEITING and untemperate life, suddenly died in the midst of his prosperity, the ninth of April, Anno 1483.  

MIseremini mei ye that be my friends,  
This world hath formed me down to fall:  
How may I endure when that every thing ends?  
What creature is borne to be eternal?  
Now there is no more but pray for me all,  
Thus say I Edward that late was your King,  
And twenty two years ruled this Imperial,  
Some unto pleasure and some to no liking:  
Mercy I ask of my misdoing.  
What availeth it friends to be my foe?  
Sith I cannot resist, nor amend your complaining,  
Quia ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.   

I sleep now in mould as it is natural,  
As earth unto earth hath his reverture:  
What ordained God to be terrestrial,  
Without recourse to the earth by nature?  
Who to live ever may himself assure?  
What is it to trust to mutability?  
Sith that in this world nothing may endure.  
(For now am I gone that was late in prosperity)  
To presume thereupon it is but vanity.  
Not certain, but as a cherry fair full of wo.  
Reigned not I of late in great prosperity?  
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.   

Where was in my life such an one as I,  
While Lady Fortune had with me continuance:  
Granted not she me to have victory.  
In England to reign and to contribute France?  
She took me by the hand and led me a dance,  
And with her sugared lips on me she smiled,  
But what for dissembled countenance,  
I could not beware till I was beguiled.  
Now from this world she hath me exiled,  
When I was loathest hence for to go,  
And am in age (who saith) but a child,  
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.   

I had enough, I held me not content,  
Without remembrance that I should die:  
And moreover to encroach ready was I bend,  
I knew not how long I should it occupy,  
I made the Tower strong I wist not why.  
I knew not to whom I purchased Tartersoll.  
I mended Dover on the mountain high,  
And London I provoked to fortify the wall.  
I made Nottingham a place full royal.  
Windsor, Eltam, and many other more,  
Yet at the last I went from them all,  
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.   

Where is now my conquest and victory?  
Where is my riches and royal array?  
Where be my coursers and my horses high?  
Where is my mirth, my solace, and my play?  
As vanity to nought all is withered away:  
O Lady Bes long for me may you call,  
For I am departed until domes day:  
But love you that Lord that is Sovereign of all.  
Where be my Castles and buildings royal?  
But Windsor alone now have I no more,  
And of Eton the prayers perpetual,  
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.   

Why should a man be proud or presume high?  
Saint Bernard thereof nobly doth treat,  
Saying a man is but a sack of stercorie,  
And shall return unto worms meat:  
Why, what became of Alexander the great?  
Or else of strong Samson, who can tell?  
Were not worms ordained their flesh to fret?  
And of Solomon, that was of wit the Well,  
Absalon preferred his hair for to sell,  
Yet for his beauty worms eat him also,  
And I but late in honours did excel,  
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.   

I have played my pageant, now am I passed,  
Ye wot well all I was of no great eld.  
Thus all things concluded shall be at the last,  
When death approacheth then lost is the field:  
Then seeing the world me no longer upheld,  
(For nought would conserve me here in this place;  
In manus tuas Domine my spirit up I yield,  
Humbly beseeching thee O God of thy grace.  
O you courteous Commons your hearts embrace  
Benignly now to remember me also,  
For right well you know your King I was:  
Et ecce nunc in pulvere dormio.    

HOW SIR ANTHONY WODVILE Lord Rivers and Scales, governor of Prince EDWARD, was with his Nephew Lord Richard Grace and other causeless imprisoned, and cruelly murdered, Anno, 1483.  

AS silly suitors letted by delays  
To show their Prince the meaning of their mind,  
That long have bought their brokers yea and nays  
And near the nigher, do daily wait to find  
The Prince's grace, from weighty affairs untwind:  
Which time attained, by attending all the year,  
The wearied Prince will then no suitors hear:   

My case was such not many days ago.  
For after bruit had blazed all abroad  
That Baldwine through the aid of other more,  
Of fame or shame fallen Princes would unload,  
Out from our graves we got without abode,  
And pressed forward with the rueful rout,  
That sought to have their doings bolted out.   

But when I had long tended for my turn  
To tell my tale, as divers other did:  
In hope I should no longer while sojourn  
But from my suits have speedily been rid,  
When course and place both orderly had bid  
Me show my mind, and I prepared to say,  
The hearers paused, arose, and went their way.   

These doubtful doings drove me to my dumps,  
Uncertain what should move them so to do:  
I feared lest affections loathly lumps  
Or inward grudge had driven them thereto,  
Whose wicked stings all stories truth undo,  
Oft causing good to be reported ill,  
Or drowned in suds of Lethe's muddy swill.   

For hitherto sly writers wily wits  
Which have engrossed Princes chief affairs,  
Have been like horses snaffled with the bits  
Of fancy, fear, or doubts full deep despairs,  
Whose rains enchained to the chiefest chairs,  
Have so been strained of those that bore the stroke  
That truth was forced to chow or else to choke.   

This caused such as loathed loud to lie,  
To pass with silence sundry Prince's lives.  
Less fault it is to leave, then lead awry,  
And better drowned, then ever bound in gives:  
For fatal fraud this world so fond drives,  
That whatsoever writers brains may brew  
Be it never so false, at length is ta'en for true.   

What harm may hap by help of lying pens,  
How written lies may lewdly be maintained,  
The loathly rites, the devilish idol dens,  
With guiltless blood of virtuous men bestained,  
Is such a proof as all good hearts have plained,  
The taly grounds of stories thoroughly tries,  
The death of Martyr's vengeance on it cries.   

The freshest wits I know will soon be weary,  
In reading long what ever book it be,  
Except it be vain matter, strange, or merry,  
Well saust with lies, and glared all with glee,  
With which because no grave truth may agree,  
The closest style for stories is the meetest,  
In rueful means the shortest form is sweetest:   

And seeth the plaints already by thee penned,  
Are brief enough, the number also small,  
The tediousness I think doth none offend,  
Save such as have no lust to learn at all:  
Regard none such: no matter what they brawl.  
Warn thou the wary lest they hap to stumble:  
As for the careless, care not what they mumble.   

My life is such as (if thou note it well)  
May cause the witty wealthy to beware.  
For their sakes therefore plainly will I tell,  
How false and cumbrous worldly honours are,  
How cankered foes bring careless folk to care,  
How tyrants suffered and not quelled in time,  
Do cut their throats that suffer them to climb.   

Nor will I hide the chiefest point of all,  
Which wisest Rulers lest of all regard,  
That was and will be cause of many a fall.  
This cannot be too earnestly declared,  
Because it is so ceil, and slackly hard.  
Th abuse and scorning of God's ordinances,  
Is chiefest cause of care and woeful chances.   

God's holy orders highly are abused  
When men do change their ends for strange respects:  
They scorned are, when they be clean refused,  
For that they cannot serve our fond affects:  
The one our shame, the other our sin detects.  
It is a shame for Christians to abuse them,  
But deadly sin for scorners to refuse them.   

I mean not this alone of degrees  
Ordained by God for people's preservation,  
But of his law, good orders, and decrees,  
Provided for his creatures conservation;  
And specially the state of procreation,  
Wherein we here the number of them increase,  
Which shall in Heaven enjoy eternal peace.   

The only end why God ordained this,  
Was for th' increasing of that blessed number  
For whom he hath prepared eternal bliss.  
They that refuse it for the care or cumber  
Being apt thereto are in a sinful slumber:  
No fond respect, no vain devised vows  
Can quit or bar what God in charge allows.   

It is not good for man to live alone  
Said God: and therefore made he him a make:  
Sole life said Christ is granted few or none,  
All seed-sheders are bound like wives to take:  
Yet not for lust, for lands, or riches sake,  
But to beget and foster so their fruit  
That Heaven and Earth be stored with the suit.   

But as the state is damnably refused  
Of many apt and able thereunto,  
So is it likewise wickedly abused  
Of all that use it as they should not do:  
Wherein are guilty all the greedy who  
For gain, for friendship, lands, or honours wed,  
And these pollute the undefiled bed.   

And therefore God through justice cannot cease  
To plague these faults with sundry sorts of whips:  
As disagreement, healths or wealths decrease,  
Or loathing sore the never liked lips.  
Disdiane also with rigour some times nips  
Presuming mates, unequally that match:  
Some bitter leaven sowers the musty batch.   

We worldly folk account him very wise  
That hath the wit most wealthily to wed:  
By all means therefore always we devise  
To see our issue rich in spousals sped.  
We buy and sell rich orphans: babes scant bred  
Must marry ere they know what marriage means,  
Boys marry old trots, old fools wed young queans.   

We call this wedding which in any wise  
Can be no marriage, but pollution plain.  
A new found trade of human merchandise,  
The devils net, a filthy fleshly gain:  
Of kind and nature an unnatural stain;  
A foul abuse of Gods most holy order,  
And yet allowed almost in every border.   

Would God I were the last that shall have cause  
Against this creeping canker to complain,  
That men would so regard their maker's laws,  
That all would leave the lewdness of their brain,  
That holy orders holy might remain,  
That our respects in wedding should not choke  
The end and fruit of Gods most holy yoke.   

The Sage King Solon after that he saw  
What mischiefs follow missought marriages,  
To bar all baits, established this law:  
No friend nor father shall give heritage's,  
Coin, cattle, stuff, or other carriages  
With any maid for dowry or wedding sale,  
By any mean, on pain of banning bale.   

Had this good law in England been in force,  
My fire had not so cruelly been slain,  
My brother had not causeless lost his corpse,  
Our marriage had not bred us such disdain,  
Myself had lacked great part of grievous pain:  
We wedded wives for dignity and lands,  
And left our lives in envies bloody hands.   

My father hight Sir Richard Woduile: he  
Espoused Bedford Duchess, and by her  
Had issue males my brother john, and me  
Called Anthony: King Edward did prefer  
Us far above the state wherein we were:  
He 'spous'd our sister Elizabeth,  
Whom Sir john Grace made widow by his death.   

How glad were we, think you, of this alliance?  
So nearly coupled with so great a King.  
Who durst with any of us be at defiance  
Thus made of might the mightiest to wring?  
But fie, what cares do highest honours bring?  
What carelessness ourselves or friends to know?  
What spite and envy both of high and low?   

Because the King had made our sister Queen,  
It was his honour to prefer her kin:  
And sith the readiest way (as wisest ween)  
Was first by wedding wealthy heirs to win,  
It pleased the Prince by like mean to begin:  
To me he gave the rich Lord Scales his heir,  
A virtuous maid, in my mind very fair.   

He joined to my brother john, the old  
Duchess of Norfolk notable of fame.  
My nephew Thomas (who had in his hold  
The honour and right of Marquis Dorsets' name)  
Espoused Cicelie a right wealthy dame,  
Lord Bonuiles' heir: by whom he was possessed  
In all the rights where through that house was blest.   

The honours that my Sire attained were divers,  
First Chamberlain, than Constable he was:  
I do omit the gainfullest, Earl Rivers.  
Thus glistered we to glory clear as glass.  
Such miracles can Princes bring to pass  
Among their liege's whom they mind to heave  
To honours false, who all their guests deceive.   

Honour's are like that cruel King of Thrace,  
With new come guests that fed his hungry horses:  
Or like the tyrant Busiris, whose grace  
Offered his Gods all strangers strangled corpses.  
To forrenners so hard false honours force is,  
That all her bourders, strangers either geasts  
She spoils to feed her Gods and greedy beasts.   

Her Gods be those whom God by law or lot,  
Or kind by birth doth place in highest rooms,  
Her beasts be such as greedily have got  
Office or charge to guide the silly grooms.  
These officers in law or charge are brooms,  
Which sweep away the sweet from simple wretches,  
And spoil th' enriched by their crafty fetches.   

These pluck down those whom Princes set aloft,  
By wresting laws, and false conspiracies:  
Yea Kings themselves by these are spoiled oft.  
When wilful Princes carelessly despise  
To hear th' oppressed people's heavy cries,  
Nor will correct their polling thieves, than God  
Doth make those reves the reckless Princes rod.   

The second Richard is a proof of this,  
Whom crafty Lawyers by their laws deposed.  
Another pattern good King Henry is,  
Whose right by them hath diversly been glossed,  
Good while he grew, bade when he was unrosed:  
And as they soldered these and divers other,  
With like deceit they used the King my brother.   

While he prevailed they said he owed the Crown,  
All laws and rights agreed with the same:  
But when by drifts he seemed to be down,  
All laws and right extremely did him blame,  
Nought save usurping traitor was his name.  
So constantly the judges construe laws,  
That all agree still with the stronger cause.   

These (as I said) and other like in charge  
Are honours horses, whom she feeds with gests,  
For all whom Princes frankly do enlarge  
With dignities, these bark at in their breasts,  
Their spite, their might, their falsehood never rests  
Till they devour them, sparing neither blood,  
Ne limb, ne life, and all to get their good.   

The Earl of Warwick was a prancing courser,  
The haughty heart of his could bear no mate:  
Our wealth through him waxed many a time the worse,  
So cankardly he had our kin in hate.  
He troubled oft the King's unsteady state,  
And that because he would not be his ward  
To wed and work as he should list award.   

He spited us because we were preferred  
By marriage to dignities so great,  
But craftily his malice he deferred  
Till traitorously he found means to entreat  
Our brother of Clarence to assist his feat:  
Whom when he had by marriage to him bound,  
Then wrought he strait our lineage to confound.   

Through slanderous brutes he brewed many a broil  
Throughout the Realm, against the King my brother,  
And raised traitorous rebels thirsting spoil  
To murder men: of whom among all other  
Robin of Kiddesdale many a soul did smother,  
His rascal rabble at my father wroth  
took sire and son, and quick beheaded both.   

This heinous act although the King detested,  
Yet was he fain to pardon: for the rout  
Of rebels all the Realm so sore infested,  
That every way assailed, he stood in doubt:  
And though he were of courage high and stout,  
Yet he assayed by fair means to assuage  
His enemy's ire, reveld by rebels rage.   

But Warwick was not pacified thus,  
His constant rancour causeless was extreme,  
No mean could serve the quarrel to discus,  
Till he had driven the King out of the Realm.  
Nor would he then be waked from his dream:  
For when my brother was come and placed again,  
He stinted not till he was stoutly slain.   

Then grew the King and Realm to quiet rest,  
Our stock and friends still stying higher and higher:  
The Queen with children fruitfully was blest:  
I governed them, it was the King's desire.  
This set their uncles furiously on fire,  
That we the Queen's blood were assigned to govern  
The Prince, not they, the Kings own blood and brethren.   

This caused the Duke of Clarence so to chafe,  
That with the King he brainless fell at bate:  
The Counsel warily to keep him safe.  
From raising tumults as he did of late,  
Imprisoned him: where through his brother's hate  
He was condemned, and murdered in such sort  
As he himself hath truly made report.   

Was none abhorred these mischiefs more than I,  
Yet could I not be therewith discontented,  
Considering that his rancour touched me nigh:  
Else would my conscience never have consented  
To wish him harm, could he have been contented.  
But fear of hurt, for safeguard of out state  
Doth cause more mischief than desert or hate.   

Such is the state that many wish to bear,  
That or we must with others blood be stained,  
Or lead our lives continually in fear.  
You mounting minds behold here what is gained  
By coumbrous honour, painfully attained:  
A damned soul for murdering them that hate you,  
Or doubtful life, in danger lest they mate you.   

The cause (I think) why some of high degree  
Do deadly hate all seekers to ascend,  
Is this: The clown contented can not be  
With any state, till time he apprehend  
The highest top: for thereto climbers tend:  
Which seldom is attained without the wrack  
Of those between that stay and bear him back.   

To save themselves they therefore are compelled  
To hate such climbers, and with wit and power  
To compass means where through they may be quelled,  
Ere they ascend their honours to devour.  
This caused the Duke of Clarence frown and lower  
At me and other, whom the King promoted  
To dignities: wherein he madly doted.   

For seeing we were his dear allied friends,  
Our furtherance should rather have made him glad  
Then enmy-like to wish our woeful ends.  
We were the nearest kinsfolk that he had.  
We joyed with him, his sorrow made us sad:  
But he esteemed so much his painted sheath,  
That he disdained the love of all beneath.   

But see how sharply God revengeth sin:  
As he maligned me and many other  
His faithful friends, and kindest of his kin,  
So Richard Duke of Gloucester his own brother,  
Maligned him and beastly did him smother,  
A devilish deed, a most unkindly part,  
Yet just revenge for his unnatural heart.   

Although this brother-queller, tyrant fell  
Envied our state as much and more than he:  
Yet did his cloaking flattery so excel  
To all our friends ward, chiefly unto me,  
That he appeared our trusty stay to be:  
For outwardly he wrought our state to further,  
Where inwardly he minded nought save murder.   

Thus in appearance who but I was blest?  
The chiefest honours heaped on my head:  
Beloved of all, enjoying quiet rest.  
The forward Prince by me alone was led,  
A noble imp, to all good virtues bred:  
The King my Liege without my counsel known  
Agreed nought: though wisest were his own.   

But quiet bliss in no state lasteth long  
Assailed still by mischief many ways:  
Whose spoiling battery glowing hot and strong,  
No flowing wealth, no force nor wisdom stays,  
Her smoakles powder beaten soldiers slays.  
By open force foul mischief oft prevails,  
By secret sleight, she ceil her purpose fails.   

The King was bend too much to foolish pleasure,  
In banqueting he had so great delight:  
This made him grow in grossness out of measure,  
Which, as it kindleth carnal appetite,  
So quencheth it the liveliness of spirit.  
Whereof ensue such sickness and diseases  
As none can cure save death that all displeases.   

Through this fault furthered by his brother's fraud  
(Now God forgive me if I judge amiss)  
Or through that beast his ribald or his bawd  
That larded still these sinful lusts of his,  
He suddenly forsook all worldly bliss.  
That loathed leech, that never welcome death,  
Through Spasmous humours stopped up his breath.   

That time lay I at Ludloe Wales his border,  
For with the Prince the King had sent me thither  
To stay the robberies, spoil, and foul disorder  
Of divers outlaws gathered there together:  
Whose banding tended no man wist well whither,  
When these by wisdom safely were suppressed,  
Came woeful news, our sovereign was deceased.   

The grief whereof when reason had assuaged,  
Because the Prince remained in my guide,  
For his defence great store of men I waged,  
Doubting the storms which at such time betide.  
But while I there thus warily did provide,  
Commandment came to send them home again  
And bring the King thence with his household train.   

This charge sent from the Counsel and the Queen  
Though much against my mind I beast obeyed:  
The devil himself wrought all the drift I ween,  
Because he would have innocents betrayed:  
For ere the King were half his way conveyed,  
A sort of traitors falsely him betrapped  
I caught afore, and close in prison clapped.   

The Duke of Gloucester that in carnate devil  
Confedred with the Duke of Buckingham,  
With eke Lord Hastings, hasty both to evil  
To meet the King in mourning habit came,  
(A cruel Wolf though clothed like a Lamb)  
And at Northampton, where as then I baited,  
They took their Inn as they on me had waited.   

The King that night at Stonystratford lay,  
A town too small to harbour all his train:  
This was the cause why he was gone away  
While I with other did behind remain.  
But will you see how falsely friends can feign?  
Not Sinon sly, whose fraud best fame rebukes,  
Was half so subtle as these double Dukes.   

First to mine Inn cometh in my brother false,  
Embraceth me: well met good brother Scales,  
And weeps withal: the other me enhalse  
With welcome cousin, now welcome out of Wales:  
O happy day, for now all stormy gales  
Of strife and rancour utterly are suaged,  
And we our own to live or die unwaged.   

This proffered service saust with salutations  
Immoderate, might cause me to suspect:  
For commonly in all dissimulations  
Th' excess of glavering doth the guile detect:  
Reason refuseth falsehood to direct:  
The will therefore for fear of being spied  
Exceedeth mean, because it wanteth guide.   

This is the cause why such as fain to weep  
Do howl outright, or wailing cry ah, ah,  
Tearing themselves, and straining sighs most deep:  
Why such dissemblers as would seem to laugh  
Breath not tihhee, but bray out, hah hah hah:  
Why beggars feigning bravery are the proudest,  
Why cowards bragging boldness, wrangle loudest.   

For commonly all that do counterfeit  
In any thing, exceed the natural mean,  
And that for fear of failing in their feat.  
But these conspirers couched all so clean  
Through close demeanour, that their wiles did wean  
My heart from doubts, so many a false device  
They forged fresh, to hide their enterprise.   

They supped with me, propounding friendly talk  
Of our affairs, still giving me the praise:  
And ever among the cups to me ward walk:  
I drink to you good Cousin each traitor says.  
Our banquet done, when they should go their ways  
They took their leave, oft wishing me good night,  
As heartily as any creature might.   

A noble heart they say is Lion like,  
It cannot couch, dissemble, crouch, nor fain.  
How villainous were these, and how unlike?  
Of noble stock the most ignoble stain.  
Their wolvish hearts, their traitorous foxly brain  
Or prove them base, of rascal race engendered,  
Or from haut lineage bastard like degendred.   

Such polling heads as praise for prudent policy  
False practices, I wish were pact on poles:  
I mean the bastard law-brood, which can mollify  
All kind of causes in their crafty noles.  
These undermine all virtue, blind as Moles,  
They bolster wrong, they rack and strain the right,  
And praise for law both malice, fraud, and might.   

These quench the worthy flames of noble kind,  
Provoking best borne to the basest vices:  
Through crafts they make the boldest courage blind,  
Disliking highly valiant enterprises,  
And praising vilely villainous devices.  
These make the Bore a Hog, the Bull an Ox,  
The Swan a Goose, the Lion a Wolf or Fox.   

The Lawyer Catesby and his crafty fears  
A rout that near did good in any ream,  
Are they that had transformed these noble peers:  
They turned their blood to melancholic phlegms,  
Their courage haut to cowardife extreme,  
Their force and manhood into fraud and malice,  
Their wit to wiles, stout Hector into Paris.   

These glaverers gone, myself to rest I laid,  
And doubting nothing sound fell a sleep:  
But suddenly my servants sore afraid  
Awaked me: and drawing sighs full deep,  
Alas (quoth one) my Lord we are betrayed.  
How so (quoth I) the Dukes are gone their ways,  
Th' have barred the gates, and borne away the keys.   

While he thus spoke, there came into my mind  
This fearful dream, whereout I waked was:  
I saw a river stopped with storms of wind,  
Where through a Swan, a Bull, and Boar did pass,  
Franching the fish and fry, with teeth of brass,  
The river dried up save a little stream,  
Which at the last did water all the Ream.   

Me thought this stream did drown the cruel Boar  
In little space, it grew so deep and broad:  
But he had killed the Bull and Swan before.  
Besides all this I saw an ugly Toad  
Crale toward me, on which me thought I trod:  
But what became of her, or what of me  
My sudden waking would not let me see.   

These dreams considered with this sudden news,  
So divers from their doings over night,  
Did cause me not a little for to muse,  
I blessed me, rose in all the hast I might.  
By this, Aurora spread abroad the light,  
Which from the ends of Phoebus' beams he took,  
Who then the Bulls chief gallery forsook.   

When I had opened the window to look out,  
There might I see the streets each where beset,  
My Inn on each side compassed about  
With armed watchmen, all escapes to let:  
Thus had these nero's caught me in their net,  
But to what end I could not thoroughly guess,  
Such was my plainness, such their doubleness.   

My conscience was so clear I could not doubt  
Their deadly drift, which less apparent lay,  
Because they caused their men return the rout  
That road toward Stonystratford as they say,  
Because the Dukes will first be there to day:  
For this (thought I) they hinder me in jest,  
For guiltless minds do easily deem the best.   

By this the Dukes were come into mine Inn,  
For they were lodged in another by.  
I got me to them, thinking it a sin  
Within my chamber cowardly to lie.  
And merrily I asked my brother why  
He used me so? he stern in evil sadness  
Cried out: I arrest thee traitor for thy badness.   

How so (quoth I) whence riseth your suspicion?  
Thou art a traitor (quoth he) I thee arrest  
Arrest (quoth I) why where is your commission?  
He drew his weapon, so did all the rest,  
Crying: yield thee traitor. I so sore distressed  
Made no resistande: but was sent to ward,  
None save their servants signed to my guard.   

This done they sped him to the King in post,  
And after humble reverence to him done,  
They traitorously began to rule the roast,  
They picked a quarrel to my sister's son  
Lord Richard Grace: the King would not be won  
T'agree to them, yet they against all reason  
Arrested him, they said for heinous treason.   

Sir Thomas Vaughan and Sir Richard Hault  
Two worthy Knights were likewise apprehended,  
These all were guilty in one kind of fault,  
They would not like the practice then pretended:  
And seeing the King was herewith sore offended,  
Back to Northampton they brought him again,  
And thence discharged most part of his train.   

There lo Duke Richard made himself Protector  
Of King and Realm, by open proclamation,  
Though neither King nor Queen were his elector,  
Thus he presumed by lawless usurpation.  
But will you see his deep dissimulation?  
He sent me a dish of dainties from his board  
That day, and with it, this false friendly word:   

Commend me to him, all things shall be weil,  
I am his friend, bid him be of good cheer:  
These news I prayed the messenger go tell  
My Nephew Richard, whom I loved full dear.  
But what he meant by well, now shall you here:  
He thought it well to have us quickly murdered,  
Which not long after thoroughly he furdred.   

For strait from thence we closely were conveyed,  
From jail to jail Northward, we wist not whither:  
Where, after a while we had in sunder stayed,  
At last we met at Pomfret all together.  
Sir Richard Ratcliff bade us welcome thither,  
Who openly, all law and right contemned,  
Beheaded us before we were condemned.   

My cousin Richard could not be content  
To leave his life, because he wist not why,  
Good gentleman that never harm had meant,  
Therefore he asked wherefore he should die:  
The Priest his ghostly father did reply  
With weeping eyes: I know one woeful cause;  
The Realm hath neither righteous Lords not laws.   

Sir Thomas Vaughan chase cried still:  
This tyrant Gloucester is the graceless G,  
That will his brother's children beastly kill.  
And, lest the people through his talk might see  
The mischiefs toward, and thereto not agree,  
Our tormentor that false perjured Knight  
Bade stop our mouths, with words of high despite.   

Thus died we guiltless, process heard we none,  
No cause alleged, no judge, nor yet accuser,  
No Quest empaneled passed us upon.  
That murderer Ratcliff, law and rights refuser,  
Did all to flatter Richard his abuser.  
Unhappy both that ever they were borne,  
Through guiltless blood that have their souls forlorn.   

In part I grant I well deserved this,  
Because I caused not speedy execution  
Be done on Richard for that murder of his,  
When first he wrought King Henry's close confusion,  
Not for his brother's hateful persecution.  
These cruel murders painful death deserved,  
Which had he suffered, many had been preserved.   

Warn therefore all that charge or office bear,  
To see all murderers speedily executed:  
And spare them not for favour or for fear:  
By guiltless blood the earth remains polluted.  
For lack of justice kingdoms are transmuted.  
They that save murderers from deserved pain,  
Shall through those murderers miserably be slain.    

HOW THE LORD HASTINGS WAS BETRAYED BY TRUSTING TOO MUCH to his evil Counsellor Catesby, and villainously murdered in the Tower of London, by Richard Duke of Gloucester, the 13. of june, Anno, 1483.  

I Am that Hastings whose too hasty death,  
They blame that know wherefore I lost my breath,  
With others fearing lest my headless name  
Be wronged, by partial brute of flattering Fame.  
Hearing O Baldwine that thou meanest to pen,  
The lives and falls of English Noblemen,  
Myself here present, do present to thee  
My life, my fall, and forced destiny.   

Ne fear to stain thy credit by my tale:  
In Lethe's flood, long since, in Stygian vale,  
Self love I drowned. What time hath fined for true,  
And ceaseth not, (though stale) still to renew:  
Recount I will: whereof take this for proof,  
That blaze I will my praise, and my reproof.  
We naked ghosts are but the very man  
Nor of ourselves more than we ought, we scan.   

The heavens high, and Earthly vale below,  
Yet ring his Fame, whose deeds so great did grow.  
Edward the fourth ye know vnnam'd I mean,  
Whose noble nature so to me did lean,  
That I his staff was, I his only joy,  
And even what Pandar was to him of Troy:  
Which moved him first, to make me Chamberlain,  
To serve his sweets, to my most sour pain.   

Wherein, to justly praised for secretness  
(For now my guilt with shrieking I confess)  
To him too true too untrue to the Queen,  
Such hate I won, as lasted long between  
Our families: Shore's wife was my Nice cheat,  
The holy whore, and eke the wily peat.  
I fed his lust with lovely pieces so,  
That God's sharp wrath I purchased, my just wo.   

See here the difference of a noble mind.  
Some virtue raiseth, some by vice have climbed.  
The first, though only of themselves begun,  
Yet circlewise into themselves do run.  
Within themselves their force united so,  
Both endless is, and stronger 'gainst their foe.  
For, when end'th it that never hath begun?  
Or how may that, that hath no end, b'undone?   

Th' other as by wicked means they grew,  
And reigned by flattery, so soon they rue.  
First tumbling step fro honours old, is vice.  
Which once stepped down, some linger, none arise  
To former type: But they catch virtues spray,  
Which raiseth them that climb by lawful way.  
Beware to rise by serving princely lust.  
Surely to stand, one mean is rising just.   

〈◊〉 learn by me, whom let it help t'excuse,  
〈◊〉 ●●●hfull now myself I do accuse,  
〈…〉 my Prince I ever pleased with such,  
As harmed none, and him contented much.  
In vice some favour, or less hate let win,  
That I ne wried to worse end my sin.  
But used my favour to the help of such,  
As death in later war to live did grudge.   

For as on dirt (though dirty) shin'th the Sun:  
So, even amidst my vice, my virtue shoane.  
Myself I spared with his cheat to stain,  
For love or reverence so I could refrain.  
Gisippus' wife erst Titus would desire  
With friendship's breach: I quenched that brutish fire.  
Manly it is, to loath the pleasing lust.  
Small vant to fly, that of constraint thou must.   

These faults except, if so my life thou scan,  
Lo! none I hurt but furdred every man.  
My Chamber England was, my staff the law:  
Whereby sans rigour, all I held in awe.  
So kind to all, and so beloved of all,  
As, (what ensued upon my bloody fall  
Though I ne felt) yet surely this I think,  
Full many a trickling tear their mouths did drink.   

Disdain not Princes easy access, meek cheer.  
We know then Angels statelier port ye bear  
Of God himself: too massy a charge for spirits.  
But then, my Lords, consider, he delights  
To vail his grace to us poor earthly wants,  
To simplest shrubs, and to the dunghill plants.  
Express him then, in might, and mercies mean:  
So shall ye win, as now ye rule the Ream.   

But all too long I fear I do delay  
The many means, whereby I did bewray  
My zealous will, to earn my Prince's grace.  
Lest thou defer, to think me kind percase.  
As nought may last, so Fortunes changing cheer  
With pouting looks 'gan lower on my sire,  
And on her wheel, advanced high in his room  
The Warwick Earl, admired through Christendom.   

Besides the tempting prowess of the foe.  
My Prince's brother did him then forego.  
The cause was liked, I was his linked ally.  
Yet nor the cause, nor brother's treachery,  
Nor enemies force, nor band of mingled blood:  
Made Hastings bear any other mind then good.  
But ta'en, and scaped from Warwick's griping paws,  
With me he fled through Fortune's froward flaws.   

To London come, at large we might have seemed,  
Had not we then the Realm a prison deemed.  
Each bush, a bar, each spray, a banner splayed,  
Each house, a fort, our passage to have stayed.  
To Lin we leap, where while w'await the tide,  
My secret friends in secret I supplied,  
In mouth to further Henry sixth their King,  
And use my best means Edward in to bring.   

The restless tide, to bar the empty bay,  
With waltering waves roams wambling forth. Away  
The merry Mariner hales. The bragging boy,  
To masts high top up hies. In sign of joy  
The wavering flag is vanst. The surging seas  
Their swelling cease: to calmest even peace  
Sinks down their pride. With drunkenness 'gainst all care  
The Seamen armed, await their noble fare.   

On board we come. The massy anchors weighed,  
One English ship, two hulks of Holland, aid  
In such a pinch. So small though was the train,  
Such his constraint, that now, that one with pain  
Command he might, who late might many more:  
Then ghastly greeks erst brought to Tenedo.  
So nought is ours that we by hap may lose,  
What nearest seems, is farthest off in woes.   

As banished wights, such joys we might have made.  
Eased of aye threatening death that late we drade.  
But once our country's sight (not care) exempt,  
No harbour showing, that might our fear relent,  
No covert cave, no shrub to shroud our lives.  
No hollow wood, no flight that oft deprives  
The mighty his prey, no sanctuary left  
For exiled Prince, that shrouds each slave for theft:   

In prison penned whose woody walls to pass  
Of no less peril than the dying was:  
With th' Ocean moated battered with the waves,  
(As chained at oars the wretched galley slaves,  
At mercy sit of sea and enemies shot,  
And shun with death that they with flight may not)  
But greenish waves, and heavy lowering skies  
All comfort else forclosed our exiled eyes:   

Lo lo from highest top the slavish boy  
Sent up, with sight of land our hearts to joy:  
Descries at hand a fleet of Easterlings  
As then hot enemies of the British Kings.  
The Mouse may sometime help the Lion in need,  
The bittle Bee once spilled the Aegle breed.  
O Princes seek no foes. In your distress,  
The earth, the seas, conspire your heaviness.   

Our foe descried by flight we shun in haste  
And laid with canvas now the bending mast,  
The ship was racked to try her sailing then,  
As Squirrels climb the troops of trusty men.  
The steersman seeks a readier course to run,  
The soldier stirs, the Gunner hies to gun.  
The Flemings sweat, the English ship disdains  
To wait behind to bear the Flemings trains.   

Forth flieth the Bark, as from the violent gun  
The pellet breaks all stays, and stops eftsoon.  
And swift she swindg'th, as oft in Sunny day,  
The Dolphin fleets in seas, in merry May.  
As we for lives, so th' easterlings for gain,  
Thwack on the sails, and after make amain.  
Though heavy they were, and of burden great:  
A King to master yet, what Swine nold sweat?   

So mid the vale the Greyhound seeing start  
The fearful Hare, pursueth before she flert,  
And where she turn'th he turn'th her, there to bear.  
The one prey pricketh, th' other safeties fear.  
So were we chased, so fled we 'fore our foes.  
Bet flight then fight in so uneven close.  
I end. Some think perhaps, too long he stayeth  
In peril present showing his fixed faith.   

This ventured I, this dread I did sustain,  
To try my truth, my life I did disdain.  
But, lo! like trial 'gainst his civil foe,  
Faith's worst is trial, which reserves to woe.  
I pass our escape, and sharp returning home,  
Where we were welcomed by our wont fone.  
To battle main descends the Empire's right,  
At Barnet join the hosts in bloody fight.   

There joined three battles ranged in such array,  
As might for terror, Alexander fray.  
What should I stay to tell the long discourse?  
Who won the Palm? who bore away the worse?  
Sufficeth say by my reserved band,  
Our enemies fled, we had the upper hand.  
My iron army held her steady place,  
My Prince to shield, his feared foe to chase.   

The like success befell in Tewksbury field.  
My furious force, their force perforced to yield  
My Prince's foe: and render to my King  
Her only son, lest he more bate might bring.  
Thus hast a mirror of a subjects mind,  
Such as perhaps is rare again to find.   

The carving cuts, that cleave the trusty steel,  
My faith, and due allegiance, could not feel.   

But out alas, what praise may I recount,  
That is not stained with spot, that doth surmount  
My greatest vaunt? bloody for War, to feet  
A Tiger was I, all for peace unmeet,  
A soldiers hands must oft be died with gore,  
Lest stark with rest, they finewd wax and hoar.  
Peace could I win by War, but peace not use.  
Few days live he, who Warlike peace doth choose.   

When Crofts a Knight presented Henry's Heiro  
To this our Prince, in furious mood inquire  
Of him he 'gan, what folly or frenzy vain,  
With Arms forced him t'invade his Realm again?  
Whom answering, that he claimed his father's right:  
With Gauntlet smit, commanded from his sight,  
Gloucester, Clarence, I and Dorset slew:  
The guilt whereof we shortly all did rue.   

Clarence, as Cyrus, drowned in blood like Wine,  
Dorset I furthered to his speedy pine.  
Of me, myself am speaking precedent,  
Nor easier fate the bristled Boar is lent.  
Our bloods have paid the vengeance of our guilt,  
His bones, shall broil for blood which he hath spilled,  
O deadly murder, that attaint'th our fame,  
O wicked Traitors wanting worthy name.   

Who as mischievously of men deserve,  
As they merit well, who do men's lives preserve.  
If those therefore we reckon heavenly wights,  
These may we well deem Fiends, and damned Spirits,  
And while on earth they walk, disguised devils,  
Sworn foes of virtue, factors for all evils.  
Whose bloody hands torment their gored hearts,  
Through bloodshed horror, in sound sleep he starts.   

O happy world were the Lion's men,  
All Lions should at least be spared then.  
No surety now, no lasting league is blood.  
A meacock is he, who dreadth to see blood shed.  
Old is the Practice of such bloody strife,  
While ij. wear Armies. ij. the Issues of first Wife,  
With armed heart and hand, the one bloody brother,  
With cruel chase pursueth, and murdereth th' other.   

Which who abhorreth not? yet who ceaseth to sue?  
The bloody Caines their bloody sire renew.  
The horror yet is like in common frays.  
For in each murder, brother brother slays.  
Traitors to nature, country kin and kind.  
Whom no band serveth in brother's love to bind.  
O simple age, when slander slaughter was.  
The tongues small evil, how doth this mischief pass?   

Hopest thou to cloak thy covert mischief wrought?  
Thy conscience, Caitif, shall proclaim thy thought,  
A vision, Chaucer showeth difcloasd thy crime.  
The Fox descry the crows and chattering pien,  
And shall thy fellow felons, not bewray  
The guiltelesse death, whom guilty hands do slay?  
Unpunished scaped for heinous crime some one,  
But unaduenged, in mind or body none.   

Vengeance on mind, the freating furies take,  
The sinful corpse, like earth quake agues shake,  
Their frowning looks, their troubled minds bewray,  
In hast they run, and mids their race they stay,  
As gidded Roe. Amids their speech they whist,  
At meat they muse. No where they may persist  
But some fear netleth them. Ay hang they so.  
So never wanteth the wicked murderer wo.   

An infant rend with Lion's ramping paws?  
Why slander I Lions? They fear the sacred laws  
Of royal blood. Ay me more brute than beast.  
With infant's sides, (Lycaon's pie) to feast.  
O tyrant Tigers, O insatiate wolves,  
O English courtesy, monstrous mows and gulfs.  
Only because our Prince displeased we saw  
With him, we slew him strait before all law.   

Before our Prince commanded once his death,  
Our bloody swords on him we did unsheath,  
Preventing law, and even our Prince's hest,  
We hid our weapons in the younglings breast.  
Whom not desire of reign did drive to field,  
But mother's pride, who longed the Realm to wield.  
But strait my death shall show my worthy meed,  
If first to one other murder I proceed.   

While Edward lived, dissembled discord lurked  
In double hearts, yet so his reverence worked.  
But when succeeding tender feeble age,  
Gave open gap to tyrants rushing rage:  
I holp the Boar, and Buck, to captivate  
Lord Rivers, Grace, sir Thomas Vaughan and nn.  
If land would help the sea, well earned that ground  
Itself, to be with conquering waves surround.   

Their speedy death by privy doom procured,  
At Pomfret: though my life short while endured.  
Myself I slew, when them I damned to death,  
At once my throat I rived, and reft them breath.  
For that self day, before or near the hour  
That withered Atropos nipped the springing flower  
With violent hand, of their forth running life:  
My head and body, in Tower twined like knife.   

By this my pattern all ye peers beware.  
Oft hangth he himself who others weenth to snare:  
Spare to be each others butcher. Fear the Kite,  
Who soareth aloft, (while frog and mouse do fight  
In civil combat, grappling void of fear  
Of foreign foe) at once all both to bear.  
Which plainer by my pitied plaint to see,  
A while anew your listening lend to me.   

Too true it is two sundry assemblies kept,  
At Crosbies' place, and Baynard's Castle set:  
The Dukes at Crosbies', but at Baynard's we.  
The one to crown a king, the other to be.  
Suspicious is secession of foul friends,  
When either's drift to th' others mischief tends,  
I feared the end, my Catesbies' being there  
Discharged all doubts. Him held I most entire.   

Whose great preferment by my means, I thought  
Some spur, to pay the thankfulness he ought.  
The trust he ought me, made me trust him so,  
That privy he was both to my weal and wo.  
My hearts one half, my chest of confidence,  
Mine only trust, my joy dwelled in his presence.  
I loved him Baldwine, as the apple of mine eye;  
I loathed my life when Catesby would me die.   

Fly from thy channel Thames, forsake thy streams,  
Leave the Adamant Iron: Phoebus lay thy beams:  
Cease heavenly Spheres at last your weary work,  
Betray your charge, return to Chaos dark.  
At least, some ruthless Tiger hang her whelp,  
My Catesby so with some excuse to help.  
And me to comfort, that I alone, ne seem  
Of all dame natures works left in extreme.   

A Golden treasure is the tried friend.  
But who may Gold from Counterfeits defend?  
Trust not too soon, nor yet too soon mistrust:  
With th' one thyself, with th' other thy friend thou hurt'st.  
Who twin'th betwixt, and steereth the golden mean,  
Nor rashly loveth, nor mistrusteth in vain.  
In friendship sovereign it is as Mithridate,  
Thy friend to love as one whom thou mayst hate.   

Of tickle credit ne had been the mischief,  
What needed Virbius miracle doubled life?  
Credulity surnamed first the Aegean Seas.  
Mistrust, doth reason in the trustiest raise.  
Suspicious Romulus, stained his Walls first reared  
With brother's blood, whom for light leap he feared.  
So not in brotherhood jealousy may be borne,  
The jealous Cuckold wears the Infamous Horn.   

A beast may preach by trial, not foresight.  
Could I have shunned light credit, near had light  
The dreaded death, upon my guilty head.  
But Fools aye wont to learn by after read.  
Had Catesby kept unstained the truth he plight,  
Yet had yet enjoyed me, and I yet the light:  
All Derbies' doubts I cleared with his name.  
I knew, no harm could hap me without his blame.   

But see the fruits of tickle light belief.  
The ambitious Dukes corrupt the Traitor thief,  
To grope me, if alured I would assent,  
To been a Partner of their cursed intent.  
Whereto, when as by no means friendship veiled,  
By Tyrant force behold they me assailed,  
And summoned shortly a Counsel in the Tower,  
Of june the fifteenth, at appointed hour.   

Alas, are Counsels wried to catch the good?  
No place is now exempt from shedding blood,  
Sith counsels, that were careful to preserve  
The guiltelesse good, are means to make them starve,  
What may not mischief of Mad man abuse?  
Religious cloak some one to vice doth choose,  
And maketh God Protector of his crime.  
Omonstrous world, well ought we wish thy fine.   

The fatal skies, roll on the blackest day,  
When doubled bloodshed, my blood must repay.  
Others none forceth. To me sir Thomas Haward  
As spur is buckled, to provoke me froward.  
Derbie who feared the parted sit yore,  
Whether, much more he knew by experience hoar,  
Or better minded, clearelier truth could see:  
At midnight dark this message sends to me.   

Hastings away, in sleep the gods foreshow  
By dreadful dream, fell fates unto us two.  
Me thought a Boar with tusk so razed our throat,  
That both our shoulders of the blood did smoke.  
Arise to horse, strait homeward let us high:  
And seeth our foe we cannot match, O fly.  
Of Chanteclere you learn dreams sooth to know,  
Thence wisemen construe, more than the cock doth crow.   

While thus he spoke, I held within mine arm  
Shore's wife, the tender piece, to keep me warm.  
Fie on adultery, fie on lecherous lust.  
Mark in me ye Nobleses all, God's judgements just.  
A Pander, Murderer, and Adulterer thus,  
Only such death I die, as I ne blush.  
Now lest my dame might think appalled my heart  
With eager mood up in my bed I start.   

And, is thy Lord (quoth I) a Sorcerer?  
A wiseman now become? a dream reader?  
What though so Chanteclere crowed? I reck it not?  
On my part pleadeth as well dame Partelot.  
Vniudged hang'th yet the case betwixt them twain.  
Nay was his dream cause of his hap I say.  
Shall dreaming doubts from Prince my serving slack?  
Nay, then might Hastings life and living lack.   

He parteth. I sleep, my mind surcharged with sin,  
As Phoebus' beams by misty cloud kept in,  
Ne could misgive, ne dream of my mishap:  
As block, I tumbled to mine enemy's trap.  
Security causeless through my feigned friend,  
Reft me foresight of my approaching end.  
So Catesby clawed me, as when the Cat doth play,  
Dallying with Mouse whom strait she means to slay.   

The morrow come, the latest light to me,  
On Palfrey mounted, to the Tower I hie,  
Accompanied with that Haward my mortal foe,  
To slaughter led, thou God didst suffer so.  
(O deep dissemblers, honouring with your cheer,  
Whom in hid heart you traitorously tear)  
Never had Realm so open signs of wrack,  
As I had showed me of my heavy hap.   

The vision first of Stanley late descried:  
Then mirth so extreme, that near for joy I died.  
Were it, that Swan-like I foresong my death,  
Or merry mind foresaw the loss of breath  
That long it coveted, from this earth's annoy,  
But even as siker as th' end of woe is joy,  
And glorious light to obscure night doth tend:  
So extreme mirth, in extreme moan doth end.   

For why, extremes are haps racked out of course,  
By violent might far swinged forth perforce.  
Which as they are piercing'st while they violentest move,  
For that they are near to cause that doth them shove:  
So soonest fall from that their highest extreme,  
To th' other contrary that doth want of mean.  
So laughed he erst, who laughed out his breath:  
So laughed I, when I laughed myself to death.   

The pleasing'st means bided not the luckiest ends.  
Not aye, found treasure to like pleasure tends.  
Mirth means not mirth all time, thrice happy hire  
Of wit, to shun the excess that all desire.  
But this I pass, I hie to other like.  
My palfrey in the plainest paved street,  
Thrice bowed his bones, thrice kneeled on the flower  
Thrice shunned (as balam's ass) the dreaded Tower.   

What? should think he had sense of after haps?  
As beasts foreshow the drought or rainy drops,  
As humours in them want or else abound,  
By influence from the heavens, or change of ground?  
Or do we interpret by success each sign?  
And as we fancy of each hap divine?  
And make that cause, that kin is to th' effect?  
Not having ought of consequence respect?   

Bucephalus kneeling only to his Lord,  
showed only he was Monarch of the world.  
Why may not then the steed foreshow by fall,  
What casual hap the sitter happen shall?  
Darius' horse by braying brought a Realm.  
And what letteth, why he ne is (as the ass) Gods mean  
By speaking sign, to show his hap to come,  
Who is dease hearer of his speaking doom?   

But forward yet. In Tower-street I staid,  
Where (could I have seen) lo Haward all bewrayed:  
For as I commond with a Priest I met:  
Away my Lord, quoth he, your time is ne yet  
To take a Priest. Lo, Sinon might be seen,  
Had not the Troyans' hares foolish forthright eyen,  
But since the time was come that I should die,  
Some grace it was to die with wimpled eye.   

Nay was this all. For even at Tower-wharf,  
near to those walls within the which I starfe,  
Where erst, in sorrow soused, and deep distress,  
I emparted all my pining pensiveness  
With Hastings: (so my Pursuivant men call)  
Even there, the same to meet it did me fall.  
Who 'gan to me most dolefully renew,  
The woeful conference had erst in that lieu.   

Hastings (quoth I) according now they fare,  
At Pomfret this day dying, who caused that care.  
Myself have all the world at my will,  
With pleasures cloyed, engorged with the fill.  
God grant it so, quoth he: why doubtest thou though  
Quoth I? and all in chafe, to him 'gan show  
In ample wise, our drift with tedious tale:  
And entered so the Tower to my bale.   

What should we think of srignes? They are but haps,  
How may they then, be signs of afterclaps?  
Doth every chance foreshow or cause some other?  
Or ending at itself, extend'th no further?  
As th' over flowing flood some mount doth choke,  
But to his aid some other flood it yoke:  
So, if with signs thy sins once join, beware.  
Else whereto chances tend, do never care.   

Had not my sin deserved my death as wreak,  
What might my mirth have hurt? or horse's beck?  
Or Hawards' bitter scoff? or Hastings talk?  
What mean then fool Astrologers to calk?  
That twinkling stars fling down the fixed fate?  
And all is guided by the starry state?  
pardie a certain charge assigned they have  
To shine, and times divide, not fate to grave.   

But grant they somewhat give it at one instant  
Of every babe the birth in heaven so scanned,  
That they that restless roll, and never stay,  
Should in his life bear yet so violent sway:  
That, not his actions only next to birth,  
But all his life and death he swayed therewith?  
How may one motion make so sundry affects?  
Or one impression tend to such respects?   

Some rule there is yet. Else, why were deferred  
Till now, these plagues, so long ere now deserved?  
If for they are trifles, they ne seem of care:  
But toys with God the stately sceptres are.  
Yet in them too plain doth appear foreset,  
The certain rule and fatal limits set,  
Yet think we not, this sure foresetting fate,  
But God's fast providence for each princely state.   

And hath he erst restrained his providence?  
Or is he niggard of his free dispense?  
Or is he uncertain foreset drifts to drive?  
That not dame Chance but he all goods may give?  
A heathen god they hold whom Fortune keep,  
To deal them haps while god they ween asleep:  
Mocke-gods they are and many gods induce,  
Who fortune fain to father their abuse.   

How so it be, it might have warned me,  
But, what I could not, that in me see ye,  
Who run in race, the honour like to win,  
Whose fairest form nought may deform but sin,  
Alas, when most I did defy all dread,  
By single hair deaths sword hung over my head,  
For hark the end and listen now my fall:  
This is the last, and this the fruit of all.   

To Counsel chamber come, a while we stayed  
For him without whom nought was done or said:  
At last he came, and courteously excused,  
That he so long our patience had abused.  
And pleasantly began to paint his cheer,  
And said: My Lord of Elie, would we had here  
Some of the strawberries, whereof you have store:  
The last delighted me so as nothing more.   

Would, what so you wish, I might as well command,  
My Lord (quoth he) as those. And out of hand  
His servant sendeth to Ely place for them.  
Out goeth from us the restless devil again:  
Belike (I think) scarce yet persuaded full,  
To work the mischief that did mad his skull.  
At last determined, of his bloody thought  
And force ordained, to work the wile he sought:   

Frowning he enters, with so changed cheer,  
As for mild May had chopped foul januere:  
And lowering on me with the goggle eye,  
The whetted tusk, and fur'wed forehead high,  
His crooked shoulder bristlelike set up,  
With frothy jaws, whose foam he chawed and supped,  
With angry looks that flamed as the fire:  
Thus 'gan at last to grunt the grimmest fire.   

What merit they, whom me, the kingdoms stay,  
Contrived have counsel traitorously to slay?  
Abashed all sate. I thought I might be bold,  
For conscience clearness and acquaintance old,  
Their hire is plain, quoth I Be death the least  
To whoso seeketh your grace so to molest.  
Withouten stay: the Queen and the whore Shore's wife,  
By witchcraft (quoth he) seek to waste my life.   

Lo here the withered and be witched arm,  
That thus is spent by those two Sorceress charm:  
And bared his arm and showed his swinish skin.  
Such cloaks they use, that seek to cloud their sin.  
But out alas, it serveth not for the rain,  
To all the house the colour was too plain:  
Nature had given him many a maimed mark  
And it amongst to note her monstrous work.   

My doubtful heart distracted this reply.  
For th' one I cared not. th' other nipped so nigh  
That whist I could not: but forthwith broke forth.  
If so it be, of death they are doubtless worth.  
If, traitor quoth he? play'st thou with ifs and and's?  
I'll on thy body avow it with these hands.  
And there withal he mightily bounced the board.  
In rushed his billmen, one himself bestirred,   

Laying at Lord Stanley, whose brain he had surely cleft,  
Had he not down beneath the table crept.  
But Ely, York, and I were taken strait,  
Imprisoned they: I should no longer wait,  
But charged was to shrive me, and shift with haste.  
My Lord must dine, and now midday was passed.  
The Boar's first dish, not the boar's head should be.  
But Hastings head the boorish beast would see.   

Why stay I his dinner? unto the chapel joineth  
A greenish hill, that body and soul oft twineth.  
There on a block my head was stricken off,  
As Baptists head, for Herod bloody gnoffe.  
Thus lived I Baldwine, thus died I, thus I fell,  
This is the sum, which all at large to tell  
Would volumes fill: whence yet these lessons note  
Ye noble Lords, to learn and ken by rote.   

By filthy rising fear your names to stain;  
If not for virtues love, for dread of pain.  
Whom so the minds unquiet state upheaves,  
Be it for love or fear: when fancy reaves  
Reason her right, by mocking of the wit,  
If once the cause of this affection flit,  
Reason prevailing on the vubridled thought:  
Down fall he who by fancy climb aloft.   

So hath the riser foul no stay from fall,  
No not of those that raised him first of all.  
His surety stands in maintaining the cause  
That heaved him first, which rest by reasons saws,  
Not only fall he to his former state,  
But liveth for ever in his prince's hate.  
And mark my Lords, God for adultery sleath,  
Though ye it think too sweet a sin for death.   

Serve truly your Prince and fear not rebels might,  
On Prince's halves the mighty God doth fight.  
O much more than forswear a foreign foe,  
Who seeketh your realm and country to undo.  
Murder detest, have hands unstained with blood.  
Aye with your succour do protect the good.  
Chase treason where trust should be wed to your friend  
Your heart and power, to your lives last end.   

Fly tickle credit, shun alike distrust.  
Too true it is, and credit it you must:  
The jealous nature wanteth no stormy strife,  
The simple soul aye leadeth a sour life.  
Beware of flatterers, friends in outward show:  
Best is of such to make your open foe.  
What all men seek, that all men seek to sane,  
Some such to be, some such to seem, them pain.   

Mark Gods just judgements, punishing sin by sin,  
And slippery state wherein aloft we swim.  
The proverb, all day up if we ne fall,  
Agreeth well to us high heaved worldlings all.  
From common sort upraised, in honours weed  
We shine: while Fortune false (whom none erst feed  
To stand with stay and forswear ticklenesse:)  
Sowseth us in mire of dirty brittleness.   

And learn ye Princes by my wronged spirit,  
Not to misconstrue what is meant aright,  
The winged words too oft prevent the wit,  
When silence ceaseth afore the lips to sit.  
Alas, what may the words yield worthy death?  
The words worst is, the speakers stinking breath.  
Words are but wind, why cost they then so much  
The guilty kick, when they too smartly touch.   

Forth irreturnable flieth the spoken word,  
Be it in scoff, in earnest, or in board.  
Without return, and vnreceiued, it hangs,  
And at the takers mercy, or rigour stands.  
Which if he sourly wrest with wrathful cheer,  
The shivering word turns to the speakers fear.  
If friendly courtesy do the word expound,  
To the speakers comfort sweetly it doth redound.   

Even as the vapour which the fire repels,  
Turns not to earth, but in mid air dwells.  
Where while it hangeth, if Boreas frosty flaws  
With rigour rattle it: not to rain it thaws,  
But thunder, lightnings, rattling hail or snow  
Sends down to earth, whence first it rose below;  
But if fair Phoebus with his countenance sweet  
Resolve it, down the dew, or Manna sleet.   

(The Manna dew, that in the Eastern lands,  
Excell'th the labour of the bees small hands.)  
Else for her Memnon grey Aurora's tears,  
On the earth it stilleth, the partner of her fears.  
Or sendeth sweet showers to glad their mother earth,  
Whence first they took their first inconstant birth,  
To so great griefs, ill taken words do grow:  
Of words well taken, such delights do flow.   

This learned, thus be here at length an end,  
What since ensued, to thee I will commend.  
Now farewell Baldwine, shield my torn name,  
From slanderous trump of blasting black defame.  
But ere I part, hereof thou record bear:  
I claim no part of virtues reckoned here.  
My vice myself, but God my virtues take.  
So hence depart I, as I entered naked,   

Thus ended Hastings both his life and tale,  
Containing all his worldly bliss and bale.  
Happy he lived, too happy but for sin,  
Happy he died whom right his death did bring.  
Thus ever happy. For there is no mean  
Twixt blissful lives and mortal deaths extreme,  
Yet feared not his foes to stain his name,  
And by these slanders to procure his shame.   

In rusty armour as in extreme shift,  
They clad themselves, to cloak their devilish drift.  
And forth with for substantial citizens sent,  
Declaring to them, Hastings forged intent  
Was to have slain the Duke: and to have seized  
The King's young person, slaying whom he had pleased.  
But God of justice had withturned that fate,  
Which where it ought, light on his proper pate.   

Then practised they by proclamation spread,  
Nought to forget, that mought defame him dead.  
Which was so curious, and so clerkly penned,  
So long withal: that when some did attend  
His death so young: they saw that long before  
The shroud was shaped, than babe to die was boar.  
So wonteth God to blind the worldly wise,  
That not to see, that all the world espies.   

One hearing it cried out: A goodly cast,  
And well contrived, foul cast away for haste:  
Whereto another 'gan in scoff reply,  
First penned it was by enspiring prophecy.  
So can God rip up secret mischiefs wrought,  
To the confusion of the workers thought.  
My Lords, the tub, that drowned the Clarence Duke,  
Drowned not his death, not yet his death's rebuke.   

Your politic secrets guard with trusty loyalty:  
So shall they lurk in most assured secrecy.  
By Hastings death, and after fame ye learn,  
The earth for murder crieth out vengeance stern.  
Fly from his faults, and spare to hurt his fame.  
The eager hounds forbear their slain game,  
Dead, dead, avaunt Curs from the conquered chase.  
Ill might he live who loveth the dead to race.   

Thus lived this Lord, thus died he, thus he slept.  
Mids forward race when first to rest he stepped,  
Envious death that bounceth as well with mace  
At Kesars' courts, as at the poorest gates:  
When nature seemed too slow, by this slope mean,  
Conveyed him sooner to his lives extreme.  
Happy in preventing woes that after happened,  
In slumber sweet his living lights he lapped.   

Whose hasty death, if it do any grieve:  
Know he, he lived to die, and died to live.  
Untimely never comes the lives last met.  
In cradle death may rightly claim his det.  
Strait after birth due is the fatal beer.  
By death's permission the aged linger here.  
Even in the swathbands out commission goeth  
To lose thy breath, that yet but youngly bloweth.   

Happy, thrice happy, who so loos'th his breath,  
That life he gaineth by his godly death.  
As Hastings here. Whom time and truth agree,  
To engrave by fame in strong eternity.  
Who spareth not speaking, with danger of his blood?  
Yet lo this noble Lord did think it good  
To clear the innocent not to spare to speak,  
Although his shoulders with his blood should reak.   

Worthy to live, who lived not for himself  
But prized his same more than this worldly pelf,  
Whose name and line, if any yet preserve,  
We wish they live like honour to destrue.  
Whether thou seek by martial prowese praise,  
Or Pallas policy high thy name to raise,  
Or trusty service honour to attain;  
Hastings foreled: track here his bloody train.   
FINIS.  Master D.  

THE COMPLAINT OF HENRY DUKE of Buckingham.  

WHo trusts too much to honours highest throne,  
And warily watch not sly dame Fortune's snares:  
Or who in Court will bear the swing alone,  
And wisely weigh not how to wield the care,  
Behold he me, and by my death beware:  
Whom flattering Fortune falsely so beguiled,  
That lo she slew, where erst full smooth she smiled.   

And Sackuill sith in purpose now thou hast  
The woeful fall of Princes to descriue,  
Whom Fortune both uplift and eke down cast,  
To show thereby th' unsurety in this life,  
Mark well my fall, which I shall show believe,  
And paint it forth, that all estates may know:  
Have they the warning, and be mine the woe.   

For noble blood made me both Prince and Peer,  
Yea peerless too, had reason purchased place,  
And God with gifts endowed me largely here.  
But what avails his gifts where fails his grace?  
My mother's sire sprung of a kingly race,  
And called was Edmund Duke of Somerset,  
Bereft of life ere time by nature set.   

Whose faithful heart to Henry sixth so wrought  
That he him near in weal, or woe forsook,  
Till lastly he at Tewksbury field was caught  
Where with an axe his violent death he took:  
He never could King Edward's party brook,  
Till by his death he vouched that quarrel good,  
In which his Sire, and Grandsire spilled their blood.   

And such was erst my father's cruel chance,  
Of Stafford Earl by name that Humphrey hight  
Who ever priest did Henry's part advance,  
And never ceased till at Saint Alban's fight  
He lost his life, as then did many a Knight:  
Where eke my Grandsire, Duke of Buckingham  
Was wounded sore, and hardly scaped untane.   

But what may boot to stay the Sisters three,  
When Atropos perforce will cut the thread?  
The doleful day was come when you might see  
Northampton field with armed men o'erspread,  
Where fate would algates have my Grandsire dead:  
So rushing forth amids the fiercest fight,  
He lived, and died there in his Master's right.   

In place of whom as it befell my lot,  
Like on a stage, so stepped I in straightway,  
Enjoying there but woefully God wot,  
As he that had a slender part to play:  
To teach thereby, in earth no state may stay,  
But as our parts abridge, or length our age,  
So pass we all while others fill the stage.   

For of myself the dreerie fate to plain,  
I was sometime a Prince withouten peer,  
When Edward fifth began his rueful reign,  
Ay me, than I began that hateful year,  
To compass that which I have bought so dear:  
I bore the swinge, I and that wretched wight,  
The Duke of Gloucester that Richard hight.   

For when the fates had reft that Royal Prince  
Edward the fourth, chief mirror of that name,  
The Duke, and I fast joined ever since,  
In faithful love, our secret dristes to frame:  
What he thought best, to me so seemed the same,  
Myself not bend so much for to aspire,  
As to fulfil that greedy Duke's desire.   

Whose restless mind sore thirsting after rule,  
When that he saw his nephews both to been  
Through tender years as yet unfit to rule,  
And rather ruled by their Mother's kin,  
There sought he first his mischief to begin,  
To pluck from them their Mother's friends assigned,  
For well he wist they would wistand his mind.   

To follow which he ran so headlong swift,  
With eager thirst of his desired draft,  
To seek their deaths that sought to dash his drift,  
Of whom the chief the Queen's allies he thought,  
That bent thereto with mounts of mischief fraught,  
He knew their lives would be so sore his let,  
That in their deaths his only help he set.   

And I most cursed caitiff that I was,  
Seeing the state unsteadfast how it stood,  
His chief complice to bring the same to pass,  
Unhappy wretch consented to their blood:  
Ye Kings, and Peers that swim in worldly good.  
In seeking blood the end advert you plain,  
And see if blood ay ask not blood again.   

Consider Cyrus in your cruel thought,  
A matchless Prince in riches, and in might,  
And weigh in mind the bloody deeds he wrought,  
In shedding which he set his whole delight:  
But see the guerdon lotted to this wight,  
He whose huge power no man might overthrow,  
Tamiris Queen with great despite hath slow.   

His head dismembered from his mangled corpse,  
Herself she cast into a vessel fraught  
With clottered blood of them that felt her force.  
And with these words a iustreward she taught:  
Drink now thy fill of thy desired draft.  
Lo mark the fine that did this Prince befall:  
Mark not this one, but mark the end of all.   

Behold Cambyses, and his fatal day,  
Where murders mischief mirror like is left:  
While he his brother Mergus cast to slay,  
A dreadful thing, his wits were him bereft.  
A sword he caught, wherewith he pierced eft  
His body gored, which he of life benoomes:  
So just is God in all his dreadful dooms.   

O bloody Brutus rightly didst thou rue,  
And thou O Cassius, justly came thy fall,  
That with the sword wherewith thou Caesar slew  
Murdredst thyself, and reft thy life withal.  
A Mirror let him be unto you all  
That murderers be, of murder to your meed:  
For murder cries out vengeance on your seed.   

Lo Bessus he that armed with murderers knife,  
And traytrours' heart, against his royal King,  
With bloody hands bereft his master's life,  
Advert the fine his foul offence did bring:  
And loathing murder as most loathly thing,  
Behold in him the just deserved fall,  
That ever hath, and shall betide them all.   

What booted him his false usurped reign?  
Whereto by murder he did so ascend,  
When like a wretch led in an iron chain,  
He was presented by his chiefest friend,  
Unto the foes of him whom he had slain:  
That even they should avenge so foul a gilt,  
That rather sought to have his blood yspilt.   

Take heed ye Princes and ye Prelates all  
Of this outrage, which though it sleep a while  
And not disclosed, as it doth seld befall,  
Yet God that suffereth silence to beguile  
Such guilts, wherewith both earth and air ye file,  
At last descries them to your foul disgrace,  
You see th' examples set before your face.   

And deeply grave within your stony hearts,  
The dreerie dole that mighty Macedo,  
With tears unfolded wrapped in deadly smarts,  
When he the death of Clitus sorrowed so,  
Whom erst he murdered with the deadly blow  
Reached in his rage upon his friend so dear,  
For which behold lo how his pangs appear.   

The lanced spear he writhes out of the wound,  
From which the purple blood spins in his face:  
His heinous guilt when he returned found,  
He throws himself upon the corpse alas,  
And in his arms how oft doth he embrace  
His murdered friend? and kissing him in vain,  
Forth flow the floods of salt repentant rain.   

His friends amazed at such a murder done,  
In fearful flocks begin to shrink away:  
And he thereat with heaps of grief fordone,  
Hateth himself, wishing his latter day.  
Now he likewise perceived in like stay,  
As is the wild beast in the desert bred,  
Both dreading others and himself dreaded:   

He calls for death, and loathing longer life,  
Bend to his bane, refuseth kindly food:  
And plunged in depth of death and dolours strife,  
Had quelled himself, had not his friends withstood.  
Lo he that thus hath shed the guiltless blood,  
Though he were King and Kesar over all,  
Yet chose he death to guerdon death withal.   

This Prince whose Peer was never under sun,  
Whose glistening fame the earth did overglide,  
Which with his power welny the world had won,  
His bloody hands himself could not abide,  
But folly bend with famine to have died:  
The worthy Prince deemed in his regard,  
That death for death could be but just reward.   

Yet we that were so drowned in the depth  
Of deep desire, to drink the guiltless blood,  
Like to the Wolf, with greedy looks that lepth  
Into the snare, to feed on deadly food:  
So we delighted in the state we stood,  
Blinded so far in all our blinded train,  
That blind we saw not our destruction plain.   

We spared none whose life could aught forlet  
Our wicked purpose to his pass to come.  
Four worthy Knights we headed at Pomfret,  
Guiltelesse (God wot) withouten law or doom.  
My heart even bleeds to tell you all and some,  
And how Lord Hastings when he feared least,  
Dispiteously was murdered and oppressed.   

These rocks upraught, that threatened most our wreck,  
We seemed to sail much surer in the stream:  
And Fortune faring as she were at beck  
Laid in our lap the rule of all the Realm.  
The Nephews strait deposed were by the eme.  
And we advanced to that we bought full dear,  
He crowned King, and I his chiefest Peer.   

Thus having won our long desired prey,  
To make him King that he might make me chief,  
Down throw we strait his silly Nephews twain,  
From Prince's pomp, to woeful prisoners life:  
In hope that now stint was all further strife.  
Sith he was King, and I chief stroke did bear,  
Who ioied but we, yet who more cause to fear?   

The guiltless blood which we unjustly shed,  
The royal babes devested from their throne,  
And we like traitors reigning in their stead,  
These heavy burdens passed us upon,  
Tormenting us so by ourselves alone,  
Much like the fellow that pursued by night,  
Starts at each bush, as his foe were in sight.   

Now doubting state, now dreading loss of life,  
In fear of wrack at every blast of wind,  
Now start in dreams through dread of murder's knife,  
As though even then revengement were assigned,  
With restless thought so is the guilty mind  
Turmoild, and never feeleth ease or stay,  
But lives in fear of that which follows aye.   

Well gave that judge his doom upon the death  
Of Titus Celius that in bed was slain:  
When every wight the cruel murder layeth  
To his two sons that in his chamber lain,  
The judge, that by the proof perceiveth plain,  
That they were found fast sleeping in their bed,  
Hath deemed them guiltless of this blood yshed.   

He thought it could not be, that they which broke  
The laws of God and man in such outrage,  
Could so forth with themselves to sleep betake:  
He rather thought the horror and the rage  
Of such an heinous guilt could never suage,  
Nor never suffer them to sleep or rest,  
Or dreadless breath one breath out of their breast.   

So gnaws the grief of conscience evermore,  
And in the heart it is so deep ygrave,  
That they may neither sleep nor rest therefore,  
Ne think one thought but on the dread they have.  
Still to the death foretossed with the wave  
Of restless woe, in terror and despair,  
They lead a life continually in fear.   

Like to the Dear that stricken with the dart,  
Withdraws himself into some secret place,  
And feeling green the wound about his heart,  
Startles with pangs till he fault on the grass,  
And in great fear lies gasping there a space,  
Forth braying sighs, as though each pang had brought  
The present death, which 〈…〉 dread so oft:   

So we deep wounded with the bloody thought,  
And gnawing worm that grieved our conscience so,  
Never took ease, but as our heart out brought  
The stained sighs in witness of our woe,  
Such restless cares our fault did well beknow:  
Wherewith of our deserved fall the fears  
In every place rang death within our ears.   

And as ill grain is never well ykept,  
So fared it by us within a while:  
That which so long with such unrest we reaped,  
In dread and danger by all wit and wile,  
Lo see the fine, when once it felt the wheel  
Of slipper Fortune, stay it might no stowne,  
The wheel whirls up, but strait it whurleth down.   

For having rule and riches in our hand,  
Who durst gain say the thing that we auered?  
Will was wisdom, our lust for law did stand,  
In sort so strange, that who was not afeard,  
When he the sound but of King Richard heard?  
So hateful waxed the hearing of his name,  
That you may deem the residue of the same.   

But what availed the terror and the fear,  
Wherewith he kept his liege's under awe?  
It rather won him hatred every where,  
And feigned faces forced by fear of law:  
That but while Fortune doth with favour blaw,  
Flatter through fear: for in their heart lurks aye  
A secret hate that hopeth for a day.   

Recordeth Dionysius the King,  
That with his rigour so his Realm oppressed,  
As that he thought by cruel fear to bring  
His subjects under, as him liked best:  
But lo the dread wherewith himself was strest,  
And you shall see the fine of forced fear,  
Most Mirror like in this proud Prince appear.   

All were his head with crown of gold yspread,  
And in his hand the royal sceptre set,  
And he with princely purple richly clad;  
Yet was his heart with wretched cares orefret,  
And inwardly with deadly fear beset,  
Of those whom he by rigour kept in awe,  
And fore oppressed with might of tyrant's law.   

Against whose fear, no heaps of gold and glie,  
No strength of guard, nor all his hired power,  
Ne proud high towers that pressed to the sky,  
His cruel heart of safety could assure:  
But dreading them whom he should deem most sure,  
Himself his beard with burning brand would sear,  
Of death deserved so vexed him the fear.   

This might suffice to represent the fine  
Of tyrant's force, their fears, and their unrest:  
But hear this one, although my heart repine  
To let the sound once sink within my breast:  
Of fell Phereus' that above the rest,  
Such cruelty upon his people wrought,  
As (oh alas) I tremble with the thought.   

Some he encased in the coats of Bears,  
Among wild beasts devoured so to be:  
And some for prey unto the hunter's spears,  
Like savage beasts withouten ruth to die.  
Sometime t'increase his horrid cruelty,  
The quick with face to face engraved he,  
Each others death that each might living see.   

Lo what more cruel horror might be found,  
To purchase fear, if fear could stay his reign?  
It booted not, it rather struck the wound  
Of fear in him to fear the like again.  
And so he did full oft, and not in vain,  
As in his life his cares could witness well,  
But most of all his wretched end doth tell.   

His own dear wife whom as his life he loved,  
He durst not trust, nor proch unto her bed,  
But causing first his slave with naked sword  
To go before, himself with trembling dread  
Strait followeth fast, and whurling in his head  
His rolling eyen, he searched here and there  
The danger deep that he so sore did fear.   

For not in vain it ran still in his breast,  
Some wretched hap should hale him to his end.  
And therefore always by his pillow priest  
Had he a sword, and with that sword he wend,  
In vain (God wot) all perils to defend.  
For lo his wife foreirking of his reign,  
Sleeping in bed this cruel wretch hath slain.   

What should I more now seek to say in this,  
Or one jot further linger forth my tale?  
With cruel Nero, or with Phalaris,  
Caligula, Domitian, and all  
The cruel rout? or of their wretched fall?  
I can no more, but in my name advert  
All earthly powers beware of tyrant's heart.   

And as our state endured but a throw,  
So, best in us the stay of such a state  
May best appear to hang on over throw,  
And better teach tyrants deserved hate,  
Then any tyrant's death tofore or late.  
So cruel seemed this Richard third to me,  
That lo myself now loathed his cruelty.   

For when alas, I saw the tyrant King  
Content not only from his nephews twain  
To rive world's bliss, but also all world's being,  
Sans earthly guilt ycausing both be slain,  
My heart agrieud that such a wretch should reign,  
Whose bloody breast so sauaged out of kind,  
That Phalaris had near so foul a mind.   

Nay could I brook him once within my breast,  
But with the thought my teeth would gnash withal:  
For though I erst were his by sworn behest,  
Yet when I saw mischief on mischief fall,  
So deep in blood, to murder Prince and all,  
Ay then thought I, alas, and wellaway,  
And to myself thus mourning would I say:   

If neither love, kindred, nay knot of blood,  
His own allegiance to his Prince of due,  
Nor yet the state of trust wherein he stood,  
The world's defame, nor nought could form him true,  
Those guiltless babes, could they not make him rue?  
Nor could their youth, nor innocence withal  
Move him from reaving them their life and all?   

Alas it could not move him any jot,  
Nay make him once to rue or wet his eye,  
Stirred him no more than that that stirreth not:  
But as the rock or stone that will not ply,  
So was his heart made hard with cruelty,  
To murder them: alas I weep in thought,  
To think on that which this fell wretch hath wrought.   

That now when he had done the thing he sought,  
And as he would, complisht and compassed all,  
And saw and knew the treason he had wrought  
To God and man, to slay his Prince and all,  
Then seemed he first to doubt and dread us all,  
And me in chief, whose death all means he might,  
He sought to work by malice and by might.   

Such heaps of harms vpharbared in his breast,  
With envious heart my honour to deface,  
And knowing he that I which wotted best  
His wretched drifts, and all his wretched case,  
If ever sprang within me spark of grace,  
Must needs abhor him and his hateful race:  
Now more and more 'gan cast me out of grace.   

Which sudden change when I by secret chance  
Had well perceived, by proof of envious frown,  
And saw the lot that did me to advance  
Him to a King that sought to cast me down,  
Too late it was to linger any stowne:  
Sith present choice lay cast before mine eye,  
To work his death, or I myself to die.   

And as the Knight in field among his foes,  
Beset with swords, must slay or there be slain:  
So I alas leapt in a thousand woes,  
Beholding death on every side so plain,  
I rather chose by some sly secret train  
To work his death, and I to live thereby,  
Then he to live, and I of force to die.   

Which heavy choice so hastened me to choose,  
That I in part aggrieved at his disdain,  
In part to wreak the doleful death of those  
Two tender babes, his silly nephews twain,  
By him, alas, commanded to be slain,  
With painted cheer humbly before his face,  
Strait took my leave, and road to Brecknock place.   

And there as close and covert as I might,  
My purposed practice to his pass to bring,  
In secret drifts I lingered day and night,  
All how I might depose this cruel King,  
That seemed to all so much desired a thing,  
As thereto trusting I emprisde the same:  
But too much trusting brought me to my bane.   

For while I now had Fortune at my beck,  
Mistrusting I no earthly thing at all,  
Unwares alas, least looking for a check,  
She mated me in turning of a ball:  
When lest I feared, then nearest was my fall,  
And when whole Hosts were priest to stroy my fone,  
She changed her cheer, and left me post alone.   

I had upraised a mighty band of men,  
And marched forth in order of array,  
Leading my power amid the forest Dene,  
Against the tyrant banner to display:  
But lo my soldiers basely shrank away.  
For such is Fortune when she list to frown,  
Who seems most sure, him soon whirls she down.   

O let no Prince put trust in Commonty,  
Nor hope in faith of giddy people's mind,  
But let all noble men take heed by me,  
That by the proof too well the pain do find:  
Lo, where is truth or trust? or what could bind  
The vain people, but they will swerver and sway,  
As chance brings change, to drive and draw that way.   

Rome, thou that once advanced up so high,  
Thy stay, Patron, and flower of excellence,  
Hast now thrown him to depth of misery,  
Exiled him that was thy whole defence,  
Nay countest it not an horrible offence,  
To reven him of honour and of fame,  
That won it thee when thou hadst lost the same.   

Behold Camillus, he that erst revived  
The state of Rome, that dying he did find,  
Of his own state is now alas deprived,  
Banished by them whom he did thus debt-bind:  
That cruel folk, unthankful and unkind,  
Declared well their false unconstancy,  
And Fortune eke her mutability.   

And thou Scipio, a Mirror mayst thou be  
To all nobles, that they learn not too late,  
How they once trust th' unstable Commonty.  
Thou that recured the torn dismembered state,  
Even when the Conqueror was at the gate,  
Art now exiled, as though thou not deserved  
To rest in her, whom thou hadst so preserved.   

Ingrateful Rome hast show'd thy cruelty  
On him, by whom thou livest yet in fame,  
But not thy deed, nor his desert shall die,  
But his own words shall witness aye the same:  
For lo his grave doth thee most justly blame.  
And with disdain in marble says to thee:  
Unkind country, my bones shalt thou not see.   

What more unworthy than this his exile?  
More just than this the woeful plaint he wrote?  
Or who could show a plainer proof the while,  
Of most false faith, than they that thus forgot  
His great deserts? that so deserved not.  
His cinders yet lo, doth he them deny,  
That him denied amongst them for to die.   

Milciades, o happy hadst thou been,  
And well rewarded of thy country men,  
If in the field when thou hadst forced to fly,  
By thy prowess, three hundred thousand men,  
Content they had been to exile thee then:  
And not cast thee in depth of prison so,  
Laden with gives, to end thy life in wo.   

Alas how hard and steely hearts had they,  
That not contented there to have thee die,  
With fettered gives in prison where thou lay,  
Increased so far in hateful cruelty,  
That burial to thy corpse, they eke deny:  
Ne will they grant the same till thy son have  
Put on thy gives, to purchase thee a grave.   

Lo Hannibal as long as fixed fate,  
And brittle Fortune had ordained so:  
Who evermore advanced his country state  
Then thou that livedst for her and for no more?  
But when the stormy waves began to grow,  
Without respect of thy deserts ere while,  
Art by thy country thrown into exile,   

Unfriendly Fortune shall I thee now blame?  
Or shall I fault the fates that so ordain?  
Or art thou jove the causer of the same?  
Or cruelty herself doth she constrain?  
Or on whom else alas shall I complain?  
O trustless world I can accusen none,  
But fickle faith of Commonty alone.   

The Polypus nor the Chameleon strange,  
That turn themselves to every hue they see,  
Are not so full of vain and fickle change,  
As is this false unsteadfast Commonty,  
Lo I alas with mine adversity  
Have tried it true, for they are fled and gone,  
And of an host there is not left me one.   

That I alas in this calamity  
Alone was left, and to myself might plain  
This treason, and this wretched cowardie,  
And eke with tears beweepen and complain  
My hateful hap, still looking to be slain:  
wandering in woe, and to the heavens on high  
Cleaping for vengeance of this treachery.   

And as the Turtle that hath lost her mate,  
Whom griping sorrow doth so sore attaint,  
With doleful voice and sound that she doth make,  
Mourning her loss, fills all the grove with plaint:  
So I alas forsaken, and forfaint,  
With restless foot the wood roam up and down,  
Which of my dole all shivering doth resowne.   

And being thus alone, and all forsake,  
Amid the thick, forwandred in despair,  
As one dismayed, nay wist what way to take,  
Until at last 'gan to my mind repair,  
A man of mine called Humphrey Banastaire:  
Wherewith me feeling much recomforted,  
In hope of succour to his house I fled.   

Who being one whom erst I had up brought  
Even from his youth, and loved and liked best,  
To gentry state advancing him from nought,  
And had in secret trust above the rest,  
Of special trust now being thus distressed,  
Full secretly to him I me conveyed,  
Not doubting there but I should find some aid.   

But out alas on cruel treachery,  
When that this caitiff once an inkling heard,  
How that King Richard had proclaimed, that he  
Which me descried should have for his reward  
A thousand pounds, and farther be preferred,  
His truth so turned to treason, all distained,  
That faith quite fled, and I by trust was trained.   

For by this wretch I being strait betrayed,  
To one john Mitton, Sheriff of Shropshire then,  
All suddenly was taken, and conveyed  
To Salisbury, with rout of harnessed men,  
Unto King Richard there emcamped then,  
Fast by the City with a mighty host:  
Withouten doom where head and life I lost.   

And with these words, as if the axe even there  
Dismembered had his head and corpse apart,  
Dead fell he down: and we in woeful fear  
Stood mazed when he would to life revert:  
But deadly griefs still grew about his heart,  
That still he lay, sometime reviv'd with pain,  
And with a sigh becoming dead again.   

Midnight was come, when every vital thing  
With sweet sound sleep their weary limbs did rest,  
The beasts were still, the little birds that sing,  
Now sweetly slept, besides their mother's breast:  
The old and all were shrouded in their nest,  
The waters calm, the cruel seas did cease,  
The woods, the fields, and all things held their peace.   

The golden stars were whirled amid their race,  
And on the earth did laugh with twinkling light,  
When each thing nestled in his resting place,  
Forgot days pain with pleasure of the night:  
The Hare had not the greedy Hounds in sight,  
The fearful Deer, of death stood not in doubt,  
The Partridge drept not of the Falcon's foot.   

The ugly Bear now minded not the stake,  
Nor how the cruel mastiffs do him tear,  
The Stag lay still unroused from the brake,  
The foamy Boar feared not the hunter's spear:  
All things were still in desert, bush and breare.  
With quiet heart now from their travails ceased,  
Sound they slept in midst of all their rest.   

When Buckingham amid his plaint oppressed,  
With surging sorrows and with pinching pains  
In sort thus sowed, and with a sigh he ceased,  
To tell forth the treachery and the trains  
Of Banastaire, which him so sore distrains,  
That from a sigh he falls into a sound,  
And from a sound lieth raging on the ground.   

So twitching were the pangs that he assayed,  
And he so sore with ruthful rage distraught,  
To think upon the wretch that him betrayed,  
Whom erst he made a gentleman of nought,  
That more and more aggrieved with this thought,  
He storms out sighs, and with redoubled sore,  
Struck with the furies, rageth more and more.   

Whoso hath seen the Bull chased with darts,  
And with deep wounds foregald and gored so,  
Till he oppressed with the deadly smarts,  
Fall in a rage, and run upon his foe:  
Let him I say behold the raging woe  
Of Buckingham, that in these gripes of grief,  
Rageth 'gainst him that hath betrayed his life.   

With blood red eine he stareth here and there,  
Frothing at mouth, with face as pale as clout:  
When lo my limbs were trembling all for fear,  
And I amazed stood still in dread and doubt,  
While I mought see him throw his arms about:  
And 'gainst the ground himself plunge with such force,  
As if the life forthwith should leave the corpse.   

With smoke of sighs sometime I might behold  
The place all dimmed, like to the morning missed:  
And strait again the tears how they down rolled  
Alongst his cheeks, as if the rivers hist:  
Whose flowing streams ne were no sooner whist,  
But to the stars such dreadful shouts he sent,  
As if the throne of mighty jove should rend.   

And I the while with spirits wellnigh bereft,  
Beheld the plight and pangs that did him strain,  
And how the blood his deadly colour left,  
And strait returned with flaming red again:  
When suddenly amid his raging pain  
He gave a sigh, and with that sigh he said,  
Oh Banastaire, and strait again he stayed.   

Dead lay his corpse, as dead as any stone,  
Till swelling sighs storming within his breast  
Vpraisd his head, that downward fell anon,  
With looks upcasted, and sighs that never ceased:  
Forth streamed the tears records of his unrest,  
When he with shrieks thus groveling on the ground,  
Ybraied these words with shrill and doleful sound:   

Heaven and earth, and ye eternal lamps,  
That in the heavens wrapped, will us to rest,  
Thou bright Phoebe, that clearest the night's damps,  
Witness the plaints that in these pangs oppressed,  
I woeful wretch unlade out of my breast.  
And let me yield my last words ere I part,  
You, you, I call to record of my smart.   

And thou Allecto feed me with thy food,  
Let fall thy serpents from thy snaky hear,  
For such relief well fits me in this mood,  
To feed my plaint with horror and with fear,  
While rage afresh thy venomed worm areare.  
And thou Sibylla when thou seest me faint,  
Address thyself the guide of my complaint.   

And thou O jove, that with the deep fordoome  
Dost rule the earth, and reign above the skies,  
That wreakest wrongs, and giv'st the dreadful doom  
Against the wretch that doth thy name despise,  
Receive these words, and wreak them in such wise,  
As heaven and earth may witness and behold,  
Thy heaps of wrath upon this wretch unfold.   

Thou Banastaire, 'gainst thee I clepe and call  
Unto the Gods, that they just vengeance take  
On thee, thy blood, thy stained stock and all.  
O jove to thee above the rest I make  
My humble plaint, guide me, that what I speak,  
May be thy will upon this wretch to fall,  
On thee Banastaire, wretch of wretches all.   

O would to God the cruel dismal day,  
That gave me light first to behold thy face,  
With foul eclipse had reft my sight away:  
Th' unhappy hour, the time, and eke the day,  
The Sun and Moon, the Stars, and all that was  
In their aspects helping in aught to thee,  
The earth and air, and all accursed be.   

And thou caitiff, that like a monster swerved  
From kind and kindness, hast thy master lost,  
Whom neither truth, nor trust wherein thou served,  
Ne his deserts could move, nor thy faith sworn,  
How shall I curse, but wish that thou unborn  
Had been, or that the earth had rend in twain,  
And swallowed thee in cradle as thou lay.   

To this did I even from thy tender youth  
Vouchsafe to bring thee up? did I herefore  
Believe the oath of thy undoubted truth?  
Advance thee up, and trust thee evermore?  
By trusting thee that I should die therefore?  
O wretch, and worse than wretch, what shall I say?  
But clepe and curse 'gainst thee and thine for aye.   

Hated be thou, disdained of every wight,  
And pointed at where ever that thou go:  
A traitorous wretch, unworthy of the light  
Be thou esteemed: and to increase thy woe,  
The sound be hateful of thy name also:  
And in this sort with shame and sharp reproach,  
Led thou thy life, till greater grief approach.   

Dole and despair, let those be thy delight,  
Wrapped in woes that cannot be unfold,  
To wail the day, and weep the weary night,  
With rainy eine and sighs cannot be told,  
And let no wight thy woe seek to withhold:  
But count thee worthy (wretch) of sorrows store,  
That suffering much; oughtest still to suffer more.   

Deserve thou death, yea be thou deemed to die  
A shameful death, to end thy shameful life,  
A sight longed for, joyful to every eye,  
When thou shalt be arraigned as a thief,  
Standing at bar, and pleading for thy life,  
With trembling tongue in dread and dolours rage,  
Lad with white locks, and fourscore years of age.   

Yet shall not death deliver thee so soon  
Out of thy woes, so happy shalt not be:  
But to th' eternal jove this is my boon,  
That thou mayst live thine eldest son to see  
Reft of his wits, and in a soul Boar's sty  
To end his days, in rage and death distressed,  
A worthy tomb where one of thine should rest.   

Yet after this yet pray I more, thou may  
Thy second son see drowned in a dike,  
And in such sort to close his latter day,  
As heard or seen erst hath not been the like:  
Ystrangled in a puddle not so deep  
As half a foot, that such hard loss of life,  
So cruelly chanced, may be the greater grief.   

And not yet shall thy doleful sorrows cease,  
jove shall not so withhold his wrath from thee,  
But that thy plagues may more and more increase,  
Thou shalt still live, that thou thyself mayst see  
Thy daughter strucken with the leprosy:  
That she that erst was all thy whole delight,  
Thou now mayst loathe to have her come in sight.   

And after that, let shame and sorrows grief  
Feed forth thy years continually in woe,  
That thou mayst live in death, and die in life,  
And in this sort forwaild and wearied so,  
At last thy ghost to part thy body fro:  
This pray I jove, and with this latter breath,  
Vengeance I ask upon my cruel death.   

This said, he flung his reckless arms abroad,  
And groveling flat upon the ground he lay,  
Which with his teeth he all to gnasht and gnawed:  
Deep groans he fet, as he that would away.  
But lo in vain he did the death assay,  
Although I think was never man that knew  
Such deadly pains, where death did not ensue.   

So strove he thus a while as with the death,  
Now pale as lead, and cold as any stone,  
Now still as calm, now storming forth a breath  
Of smoky sighs, as breath and all were gone.  
But every thing hath end: so he anon  
Came to himself, when with a sigh outbrayed,  
With woeful cheer, these woeful words he said.   

Ah where am I, what thing, or whence is this?  
Who rest my wits? or how do I thus lie?  
My limbs do quake, my thought agasted is.  
Why sigh I so? or whereunto do I  
Thus groule on the ground? and by and by  
Upraised he stood, and with a sigh hath staid,  
When to himself returned, thus he said:   

Sufficeth now this plaint and this regret,  
Whereof my heart his bottom hath unfraught:  
And of my death let Peers and Princes were  
The world's untrust, that they thereby be taught.  
And in her wealth, sith that such change is wrought,  
Hope not too much, but in the mids of all  
Think on my death, and what may them befall.   

So long as Fortune would permit the same,  
I lived in rule and riches with the best:  
And past my time in honour and in fame,  
That of mishap no fear was in my breast:  
But false Fortune whom I suspected least,  
Did turn the wheel, and with a doleful fall  
Hath me bereft of honour, life, and all.   

Lo what avails in riches floods that flows?  
Though she so smiled, as all the world were his.  
Even Kings and Kesars' bidden Fortunes throws,  
And simple sort must bear it as it is.  
Take heed by me that blithed in baleful bliss:  
My rule, my riches, royal blood and all,  
When Fortune frowned the feller made my fall.   

For hard mishaps that happens unto such,  
Whose wretched state erst never fell no change,  
Agreeve them not in any part so much,  
As their distress to whom it is so strange,  
That all their lives nay passed pleasures range:  
Their sudden woe that aye wield wealth at will,  
Algates their he arts more piercingly must thrill.   

For of my birth, my blood was of the best,  
First borne an Earl, than Duke by due descent:  
To swing the sway in Court among the rest,  
Dame fortune me her rule most largely lent:  
And kind with courage so my corpse had blended,  
That lo on whom but me did she most smile?  
And whom but me lo, did she most beguile?   

Now hast thou heard the whole of my unhap,  
My chance, my change, the cause of all my care:  
In wealth and woe, how Fortune did me wrap,  
With world at will, to win me to her snare.  
Bid Kings, bid Kesars', bid all states beware,  
And tell them this from me that tried it true:  
Who reckless rules, right soon may hap to rue.   
FINIS.  T. Saxuist.  

HOW COLLINGBOURNE WAS CRVELLY EXECUTED FOR making a Rhyme.  

BEware, take heed, take heed, I say, beware,  
You Poets you, that purpose to rehearse  
By any art what tyrants doings are.  
Erynnis rage is grown so fell and fierce,  
That vicious acts may not be touched in verse:  
The Muse's freedom, granted them of eld,  
Is barred, sly reasons treasons high are held.   

Be rough in rhyme, and then they say you rail,  
As Juvenal was, but that doth make no matter:  
With jeremy you shall be had to jail,  
Or forced with Martial, Caesar's faults to flatter.  
clerks must be taught to claw, and not to clatter:  
Free Helicon and frank Parnassus' hills,  
Are hellie haunts, and rank pernicious ills.   

Touch covertly in terms, and then you taunt,  
Though praised Poets always did the like,  
Control us not, else traitor vile avaunt,  
What pass we what the learned do mislike?  
Our sins we see, wherein to swarm we seek.  
We pass not what the people say or think:  
Their shuttle hate makes none but cowards shrink.   

We know (say they) the course of Fortune's wheel,  
How constantly it whitleth still about,  
Arrearing now, while elder headlong reel,  
How all the riders always hang in doubt.  
But what for that? we count him but a lout  
That sticks to mount, and basely like a beast  
lives temperately, for fear of blockam feast.   

Indeed we would of all be deemed gods  
What ere we do: and therefore partly hate  
Rude Preachers, that dare threaten plagues and rods,  
And blaze the blots whereby we stain our state:  
But nought we pass what any such do prate;  
Of course and office they must say their pleasure,  
And we of course must hear, and mend at leisure.   

But when these pelting Poets in their rhymes  
Shall taunt, or jest, or paint our wicked works,  
And cause the people know and curse our crimes,  
This ugly fault, no tyrant lives but irks.  
Wherefore we loathe such taunters worse than Turks,  
Whose meaning is to make us know our miss,  
And so to mend: but they but dote in this.   

We know our faults as well as any other,  
We also doubt the dangers from them due:  
Yet still we trust so right to rule the rother,  
That scape we shall the scourges that ensue.  
We think we know more shifts then other knew.  
In vain therefore for us are counsels writ:  
We know our faults, and will not mend a whit.   

These are the feats of the unhappy sort,  
That press for honours, wealth, and pleasures vain.  
Cease therefore Baldwine, cease I thee exhort,  
Withdraw thy pen, for nothing shalt thou gain  
Save hate, with loss of paper, ink, and pain.  
Few hate their faults, all hate of them to hear,  
And faultiest, from fault would seem most clear.   

Th' intent I know is honest, plain, and good,  
To warn the wise, to fray the fond from ill:  
But wicked worldlings are so witless wood,  
That to the worst they all things construe still.  
With rigour oft they recompense good will:  
They rack the words till time their sinews burst,  
In doleful senses straining still the worst.   

A painful proof taught me the truth of this,  
Through tyrant's rage, and Fortunes cruel turn:  
They murdered me, for meetring things amiss.  
For wotest thou what? I am that Collingbourne  
Which made the rhyme, whereof I may well mourn.  
The Cat, the Rat, and Lovel our Dog,  
Do rule all England under a Hog.   

Whereof the meaning was so plain and true,  
That every fool perceived it at furst:  
Most liked it, for most that most things knew,  
In muttered what they durst.  
The tyrant Prince of most was held accursed,  
Both for his own, and for his counsels faults,  
Of whom were three the naughtiest of all naughts.   

Catesby was one, whom I did call a Cat,  
A crafty Lawyer, catching all he could.  
The second Ratcliff, whom I named a Rat,  
A cruel beast to gnaw on whom he should.  
Lord Lovel barked and bit whom Richard would,  
Whom I therefore did rightly term our Dog,  
Wherewith to rhyme I called the King a Hog.   

Till he the Crown had caught, he gave the Boar,  
In which estate would God he had deceased,  
Then had the Realm not ruined so sore,  
His nephews reign should not so soon have ceased,  
The noble blood had not been so decreased.  
His Rat, his Cat, and Blood hound had not noied  
Such liegemen true, as after they destroyed.   

Their lawless acts good subjects did lament,  
And so did I, and therefore made the rhymes,  
To show my wit how well I could invent,  
To warn withal the careless of their crimes.  
I thought the freedom of the ancient times  
Stood still in force: Ridentem dicere verum  
Quis vetat? Nay, nay. Veritas est pessuma rerum.   

Belike no tyrants were in Horace days,  
And therefore Poets freely blamed vice,  
Witness their Satyrs sharp, and tragic plays,  
With chiefest Princes chiefly had in price.  
They name no man, they mix their gall with spice,  
No more do I, I name no man outright,  
But riddle wise, I mean them as I might.   

When bruit had brought this to their guilty ears,  
Whose right surnames were noted in the rhyme,  
They all conspired like most greedy Bears,  
To charge me strait with this most grievous crime:  
And damned me the gallow tree to climb,  
And strangled then, in quarters to be cut,  
Which should on high o'er London gates be put.   

This judgement given so vehement and sore,  
Made me exclaim against their tyranny:  
Wherewith incensed, to make my pain the more,  
They practised a shameful villainy:  
They cut me down alive, and cruelly  
Ripped up my paunch and bulk, to make me smart,  
And lingered long ere they took out my heart.   

here tyrant Richard played the eager Hog,  
His grashing tusks my tender gristles shore:  
His blood hound Lovel played the hungry Dog,  
His wolvish teeth my guiltless carcase tore:  
His Rat and Cat did what they might, and more,  
Cat Catesby clawed my guts to make me smart,  
The Rat Ratcliff gnawed me to the heart.   

If jews had killed the justest King alive,  
If Turks had burnt up Churches, gods and all,  
What greater pain could cruel hearts contrive,  
Then that I suffered for this trespass small?  
I was no Prince nor Peer, but yet my fall  
Is worthy to be thought upon for this,  
To see how cankered tyrant's malice is.   

To teach also all subjects to take heed  
They meddle not with Magistrates affairs,  
But pray to God to mend them if it need:  
To warn also all Poets that be strayers,  
To keep them close in compass of their chairs,  
And when they touch that they would wish amended,  
To sauce them so, that few need be offended.   

And so to mix their sharp rebukes with mirth,  
That they may pierce, not causing any pain,  
Save such as followeth every kindly birth,  
Requited strait with gladness of the gain.  
A Poet must be pleasant, not too plain,  
Faults to control, ne yet to flatter vice,  
But sound and sweet, in all things ware and wise.   

The greeks do paint a Poet's office whole  
In Pegasus, their feigned horse with wings,  
Whom shaped so Medusa's blood did foal,  
Who with his feet struck out the Muse's springs,  
From flinty rocks to Helicon that clings.  
And then slew up into the starry sky,  
And there abides among the gods on high.   

For he that shall a perfect Poet be,  
Must first be bred out of Medusa's blood:  
He must be chaste and virtuous as was she.  
Who to her power the Ocean God withstood.  
To th' end also his doom be just and good,  
He must (as she) look rightly with one eye  
Truth to regard, and write nothing awry.   

In courage eke he must be like a horse,  
He may not fear to register the right.  
What though some frown? there of he may not force,  
No bit nor rain his tender jaws may twight,  
He must be armed with strength of wit and spirit,  
To dash the rocks, dark causes and obscure,  
Till he attain the springs of truth most pure.   

His hooves also must pliant be and strong,  
To rieve the rocks of lust and errors blind,  
In brainless heads, that always wander wrong:  
These must he bruise with reasons plain and kind,  
Till springs of grace do gush out of the mind:  
For till affections from the fond be driven,  
In vain is truth told, or good counsel given.   

Like Pegasus a Poet must have wings,  
To fly to heaven, or where him liketh best:  
He must have knowledge of eternal things,  
Almighty jove must harbour in his breast:  
With worldly cares he may not be oppressed,  
The wings of wit and skill must heave him hire,  
With great delight to satisfy desire.   

He must also be lusty, free, and swift,  
To travail far, to view the trades of men,  
Great knowledge oft is gotten by this shift:  
Things that import he must be quick to pen,  
Reproving vices sharply now and then.  
He must be swift when touched tyrants chafe,  
To gallop thence, to keep his carcase safe.   

If I had well these qualities considered,  
Especially that which I touched last,  
With speedy flight my feet should have delivered  
My feeble body from most boisterous blast,  
They should have caught me, ere I had been cast.  
But too much trusting to a tyrant's grace,  
I never shrunk, nor changed port or place.   

I thought the Poets ancient liberties  
For pleas had been allowed at the bar:  
I had forgot how new found tyrannies  
With truth and freedom were at open war,  
That lust was law, that might did make and mar,  
That among tyrants 'tis and ever was,  
Sic volo, sic jubeo, stet pro ratione voluntas.   

Where lust is law it booteth not to plead,  
No privilege nor liberties avail.  
But with the learned, whom law and wisdom lead,  
Although through rashness Poets hap to rail,  
A plea of dotage may all quarrels quail:  
Their old licence their writings to expound,  
Doth quit them clear from faults by Momus sound.   

This freedom old ought not to be debarred  
From any wight that speaketh aught, or writeth:  
The Author's meaning should of right be heard,  
He knoweth best to what end he enditeth:  
Words sometime bear more than the heart behiteth.  
Admit therefore the Author's exposition,  
If plain, for truth: if forced, for his submission.   

In case of slander, laws require no more,  
Save to amend that seemed not well said:  
Or to unsay the slanders said afore,  
And ask forgiveness for the hasty braid:  
To Heretics no greater pain is laid,  
Then to recant their errors or retract:  
And worse than these can be no writers act.   

Yes (quoth the Cat) thy railing words be treason,  
And treason is far worse than heresy.  
Then must it follow by this awkward reason,  
That Kings be more than God in majesty,  
And souls be less than bodies in degree.  
For heretics both souls and God offend,  
Traitors but seek to bring man's life to end.   

I speak not this t'abase the heinous fault,  
Of traitorous acts abhorred by God and man,  
But to make plain their judgement to be nought,  
That heresy for lesser sin do ban.  
I curse them both as deep as any can,  
And always did: yet through my foolish rhyme,  
They stained me with that most hateful crime.   

I never meant the King or Counsel harm,  
Unless to wish them safety were offence.  
Against their power I never lifted arm,  
Nor pen, nor tongue, for any ill pretence.  
The rhyme I made, though rude, was sound in sense,  
For they therein whom I so fond named,  
So ruled all, that they were foul defamed.   

This was no treason, but the very troth,  
They ruled all, none could deny the same:  
What was the cause then why they were so wroth?  
What, is it treason in a rhyming frame  
To clip, to stretch, to add, or change a name?  
And this reserved, there is no rhyme nor reason,  
That any craft can clout to seem a treason.   

For where I meant the King by name of Hog,  
I only alluded to his badge the Boar:  
To Lovels name I added more our Dog,  
Because most dogs have borne that name of year.  
These metaphors I used with other more,  
As Cat, and Rat, the half names of the rest,  
To hide the sense that they so wrongly wrest.   

I pray you now what treason find you here?  
Enough: you rubbed the guilty on the gall,  
Both sense and names do note them very near.  
I grant that was the chief cause of my fall,  
Yet can you find therein no treason at all:  
There is no word against the Prince or State,  
No harm to them whom all the Realm did hate.   

But sith the guilty always are suspicions  
And dread the ruin that must sue by reason,  
They cannot choose but count their counsel vicious  
That note their faults, and therefore call it treason.  
All grace and goodness with the lewd is geason.  
This is the cause why they good things do wrest,  
Whereas the good take ill things to the best.   

And therefore Baldwine boldly to the good  
Rebuke their fault, so shalt thou purchase thanks:  
As for the bad, thou shalt but move their mood,  
Though pleasantly thou touch their naughty pranks.  
Warn Poets all, no wise to pass the banks  
Of Helicon, but keep within the bound:  
So shall their freedom to no harm redound.    

THE WILFUL FALL OF THE BLACKSMITH, AND THE foolish end of the Lord Awdeley, in june, Anno Dom. 1496.  

WHo is more bold than is the Bayard blind?  
Where is more craft then in the clouted shone?  
Who catch more harm than do the bold in mind?  
Where is more guile than where mistrust is none?  
No plasters help before the grief be known,  
So seems by me who could no wisdom leer,  
Until such time I bought my wit too dear.   

Who being boisterous, stout, and brainless bold,  
Puffed up with pride, with fire and furies fret,  
Incensed with tales so rude and plainly told,  
Wherein deceit with double knot was knit,  
I trapped was as silly fish in net,  
Who swift in swimming, careless of deceit,  
Is caught in gin wherein is laid no bait.   

Such force and virtue hath this doleful plaint,  
Set forth with sighs and tears of Crocodile,  
Who seems in sight as simple as a Saint,  
Hath laid a bait the warelesse to beguile,  
And as they weep they work deceit the while,  
Whose rueful cheer the rulers so relent,  
To work in haste that they at last repent.   

Take heed therefore ye Rulers of the Land,  
Be blind in sight, and stop your other care:  
In sentence slow, till skill the truth hath scanned,  
In all your dooms both love and hate forbear,  
So shall your judgement just and right appear.  
It was a southfast sentence long ago,  
That hasty men shall never lack much woe.   

Is it not truth? Baldwine what sayest thou?  
Say on thy mind: I pray thee muse no more:  
Me think thou starest and look'st I wot not how,  
As though thou never saw'st a man before:  
Belike thou musest why I teach this lore,  
Else what I am, that here so boldie dare,  
Among the press of Princes to compare.   

Though I be bold I pray thee blame not me,  
Like as men sow, such corn needs must they reap,  
And nature planted so in each degree,  
That Crabs like Crabs will kindly crawl and creep:  
The subtle Fox unlike the silly sheep.  
It is according to my education,  
Forward to press in rout and congregation.   

Behold my coat burnt with the sparks of fire,  
My leather apron filled with horse shoe nails,  
Behold my hammer and my pincers here,  
Behold my looks, a mark that seldom fails:  
My cheeks declare I was not fed with quails,  
My face, my clothes, my tools with all my fashion,  
Declare full well a Prince of rude creation.   

A Prince I said, a Prince I say again,  
Though not by birth, by crafty usurpation.  
Who doubts but some men princehood do obtain,  
By open force, and wrongful domination?  
Yet while they rule are had in reputation.  
Even so by me, the while I wrought my feat,  
I was a Prince, at least in my conceit.   

I dare the bolder take on me the name,  
Because of him whom here I lead in hand,  
Tychet Lord Awdley one of birth and fame,  
Which with his strength and power served in my band,  
I was a Prince while that I was so manned:  
His Butterfly still underneath my shield  
Displayed was, from Welles to Blackeheath field.   

But now behold he doth bewail the same:  
Thus after wits their rashness do deprave.  
Behold dismayed he dare not speak for shame,  
He looks like one that late came from the grave,  
Or one that came forth of Trophonius cave,  
For that in wit he had so little pith,  
As he a Lord to serve a traitor Smith.   

Such is the courage of the noble heart,  
Which doth despise the vile and base sort,  
He may not touch that savours of the cart,  
Himlisteth not with each jack lout to sport,  
He lets him pass for pairing of his port:  
The jolly Eagles catch not little flees,  
The courtly silks match ceil with homely frees.   

But surely Baldwine if I were allowed  
To say the troth, I could somewhat declare:  
But clerks will say, this Smith doth wax too proud,  
Thus in precepts of wisdom to compare.  
But Smiths must speak that Clerks for fear ne dare.  
It is a thing that all men may lament,  
When Clerks keep close the truth lest they be shent.   

The Ostler, Barbar, Miller and the Smith,  
Hear of the saws of such as wisdom ken,  
And learn some wit, although they want the pith,  
That Clerks pretend: and yet both now and then,  
The greatest Clerks prove not the wisest men:  
It is not right that men forbid should be  
To speak the truth, all were he bond or free.   

And for because I used to fret and some,  
Not passing greatly whom I should displease,  
I dare be bold a while to play the mome,  
Out of my sack some others faults to lease,  
And let mine own behind my back to pease.  
For he that hath his own before his eye,  
Shall not so quick another's fault espy.   

I say was never no such woeful case,  
As is when honour doth itself abuse:  
The noble man that virtue doth embrace,  
Represseth pride, and humbleness doth use,  
By wisdom works, and rashness doth refuse.  
His wanton will and lust that bridle can,  
Indeed is gentle both to God and man.   

But where the Nobles want both wit and grace,  
Regard no read, care not but for their lust,  
Oppress the poor, set will in reason's place,  
And in their words and dooms be found unjust,  
Wealth goeth to wrack till all lie in the dust:  
There Fortune frowns, and spite begins to grow,  
Till high, and low, and all be over throw.   

Then sith that virtue hath so good reward,  
And after vice so duly waiteth shame,  
How hap'th that Princes have no more regard,  
Their tender youth with virtue to inflame?  
For lack whereof their wit and will is lame,  
Infect with folly, prove to lust and pride,  
Not knowing how themselves or theirs to guide.   

Whereby it happeneth to the wanton wight,  
As to a ship upon the stormy seas,  
Which lacking stern to guide itself aright,  
From shore to shore the wind and tide to tease,  
Finding no place to rest or take his ease,  
Till at the last it sink upon the sand:  
So fare they all that have no virtues scanned.   

The ploughman first his land doth dress and turn,  
And makes it apt or ere the seed he sow,  
Whereby he is full like to reap good corn,  
Where otherwise no seed but weed would grow:  
By which ensample men may easily know,  
When youth have wealth before they can well use it,  
It is no wonder though they do abuse it.   

How can he rule well in a commonwealth,  
Which knoweth not himself in rule to frame?  
How should he rule himself in ghostly health,  
Which never learned one lesson for the same?  
If such catch harm their parents are too blame:  
For needs must they be blind, and blindly led,  
Where no good lesson can be taught or read.   

Some think their youth discreet and wisely taught,  
That brag, and boast, and wear their feather brave,  
Can roist and rout, both louvre and look aloft,  
Can swear and stare, and call their fellows knave,  
Can pill and poll, and catch before they crave,  
Can carded and dice, both cog and foist at fare,  
Play on unthrifty, till their purse be bare.   

Some teach their youth to pipe, to sing and dance,  
To hawk, to hunt, to choose and kill their game,  
To wind their horn, and with their horse to prance,  
To play at tennis, set the lute in frame,  
Run at the ring, and use such other game:  
Which feats although they be not all unfit,  
Yet cannot they the mark of virtue hit.   

For noble youth, there is nothing so meet  
As learning is, to know the good from ill:  
To know the tongues and perfectly indite,  
And of the laws to have a perfect skill,  
Things to reform as right and justice will:  
For honour is ordained for no cause,  
But to see right maintained by the laws.   

It spite's my heart to hear when noble men  
Cannot disclose their secrets to their friend,  
In safeguard sure, with paper, ink, and pen,  
But first they must a secretary find,  
To whom they show the bottom of their mind:  
And be he false or true, a blab or close,  
To him they must their counsel needs disclose.   

And where they rule that have of law no skill,  
There is no boot, they needs must seek for aid:  
Then ruled are they, and rule as others will,  
As he that on a stage his part hath played:  
But he was taught, nought hath he done or said.  
Such youth therefore seek science of the sage,  
As think to rule when that ye come to age.   

Where youth is brought up in fear and obedience,  
Kept from ill company, bridled of their lust,  
Do serve God duly and know their allegiance,  
Learn godly weal which time nor age can rust:  
There Prince, people, and Peers needs prosper must.  
For happy are the folk, and blessed is that land,  
Where truth and virtue both have got the over hand.   

I speak this Baldwine of this rueful Lord,  
Whom I perforce do here present to thee,  
He faints so sore he may not speak a word:  
I plead his cause without reward or fee,  
And am enforced to speak for him and me:  
If in his youth he had been wisely taught,  
He should not now his wit so dear have bought.   

For what is he that hath but half a wit,  
But may well know that rebels cannot speed?  
Mark well my tale, and take good heed to it,  
Recount it well, and take it for good reed,  
Prove it untrue I will not trust my creed:  
Was never rebel heretofore or since,  
That could or shall prevail against his Prince.   

For ere the subject purpose to rebel,  
Within himself let him consider well,  
Foresee the danger, and bear in his brain,  
How hard it is his purpose to obtain:  
For if he once be entered to the breares,  
He hath a raging wolf fast by the ears.   

And when he entered is to rule the rout,  
Although he would, he can no way get out:  
He may be sure none will to him resort,  
But such as are the vile and rascal sort:  
All honest men, as well the most as least,  
To taste of treason utterly detest.   

Then let him weigh how long he can be sure,  
Where faith nor friendship may no while endure:  
He whom he trusteth most, to gain a groat  
Will fall him from, and seek to cut his throat:  
Among the knaves and slaves where vice is rooted,  
There is no other friendship to be looked.   

With foolish men so falsehood is in price,  
That faith is sin, and virtue counted vice.  
And where the quarrel is so vile and bad,  
What hope of aid than is there to be had?  
Thinks he that men will run at this or that,  
To do a thing they know not how or what?   

Nor yet what danger may thereof betide,  
Where wisdom would they should at home abide,  
Rather than seek, and know not what to find.  
Wise men will first debate this in their mind:  
Full sure they are if that they go to wreck,  
Without all grace they lose both head and neck.   

They lose their lands and goods, their child and wife  
With grief and shame shall lead a woeful life:  
If he be slain in field he dieth accursed,  
Which of all wrecks we should account the worst:  
And he that dieth defending his liege Lord,  
Is blest and blest again by Gods own word.   

And where the soldiers wages is vnpaied,  
There is the Captain slenderly obeyed:  
And where the soldier's out of fear and dread,  
He will be lack when that there is most need,  
And privately he seeks his ease and leisure,  
And will be ruled but at his will and pleasure.   

And where some draw forth, other do draw back,  
There in the end must needs be woe and wrack:  
To hope for aid of Lords it is but vain,  
Whose foretaught wit of treason knoweth the pain:  
They know what power a Prince hath in his hand,  
And what it is with rebels for to stand.   

They know by treason honour is defaced,  
Their offspring and their progeny disgraced.  
They know to praise is not so worthy a thing,  
As to be true and faithful to their King.  
Above cognisance or arms, or pedigree a far,  
An unsported coat is like a blazing star:   

Therefore the rebel is accurstand mad,  
That hopes for that which rebel never had:  
Who trusting still to tales doth hang in hope,  
Till at the last he hang fast by the rope.  
For though that tales be told that hope might feed,  
Such foolish hope hath still unhappy speed.   

Is is a custom never will be broken,  
In broils the bag of lies is ever open:  
Such lying news men daily will invent,  
As can the hearers fancy best content:  
And as the news do run and never cease,  
So more and more they daily do increase.   

And as they ' ncrease, they multiply as fast,  
That ten is ten hundred, ten thousand at the last.  
And though the rebel had once got the field,  
Thinks he thereby to make his Prince to yield?  
A Prince's power within his own region,  
Is not so soon brought to confusion.   

For Kings through God are strong and stoutly hearted,  
That they of subjects will not be subverted:  
If Kings would yield, yet God would them restrain,  
Of whom the Prince hath grace and power to reign:  
Who straightly chargeth us above all thing,  
That no man should resist against his King.   

Who that resisteth his dread sovereign Lord;  
Doth damn his soul, by Gods own very word,  
A Christian subject should with honour due,  
Obey his Sovereign though he were a jew:  
Whereby assured when subjects do rebel,  
God's wrath is kindled, and threateneth fire and hell.   

It is soon known when God's fierce wrath is kindled,  
How they shall speed with whom he is offended:  
If God give victory to whom he liketh best,  
Why look they for it whom God doth most detest?  
For treason is hateful, and abhorred in God's sight,  
Example of judas that most wicked wight:   

Which is the chief cause no treason prevails,  
For ill must he speed whom God's wrath assails.  
Let traitors and rebels look to speed then,  
When Gods mighty power is subject to men.  
Much might be said that goeth more near the pith,  
But this sufficeth for a rural Smith.   

Baldwine when thou hearest reason in this case,  
Belike thou think'st I was not very wise,  
And that I was accursed, or else wanted grace,  
Which knowing the end of my fond enterprise,  
Would thus presume against my Prince to rise:  
But as there is a cause that moveth every woe,  
Somewhat there was whereof this sore did grow:   

And to be plain and simple in this case,  
The cause why I such matter took in hand,  
Was nothing else but pride and lack of grace,  
Vain hope of help, and tales both false and fond:  
By mean whereof I did my Prince withstand,  
Denied the tax assessest by convocation,  
To maintain war against the Scottish nation.   

Whereat the Cornish men did much repine,  
For they of gold and silver were full bare,  
And lived hardly, digging in the mine,  
They said they had no money for to spare:  
'Gan first to grudge, and then to swear and stare,  
Forgot their due obeisance, and rashly fell to raving,  
And said they would not bear such polling and such shaving.   

They first accused the King as author of their grief,  
And then the Bishop Morton, and Sir Reinold Bray:  
For they then were about the King most chief,  
Because they thought the whole fault in them lay:  
They did protest to rid them of the way.  
Such thank have they that rule above a Prince,  
They bear the blame of other men's offence.   

When I perceived the Commons in a roar,  
Then I and Flamoke both agreed together,  
To whom the people resorted more and more,  
Lamenting and crying, help us now or never,  
Break bondage now, then are we free for ever:  
Whereat inflamed in hope to purchase fame,  
To be their captains took on us the name.   

Then might you hear the people make a shout,  
God save the captains, and send us all good speed:  
Then he that fainted counted was a lout,  
The ruffians ran to sow seditious seed:  
To call for company there was no need,  
For every man his brother did entice,  
To be partaker of his wicked vice.   

Then all such news as made for our avail,  
Was brought to me, but such as sounded ill,  
Was none so bold to speak or yet bewail:  
Each one so wedded was unto his will,  
That forth they cried with bows, with sword, and bill.  
And what the ruffler spoke the lout took for a verdict,  
For there the best was worst, worst best regarded.   

For when men rebel, there still the viler sort  
Conspire together, and will have all the sway:  
And be it well or ill, they bear the port,  
As they will do, the rest must needs obey.  
They prattle and prate as doth the Popingay:  
They cry unto the rest to keep th' array,  
Whiles they may range and rob for spoil and pray.   

And when we had prepared every thing,  
We went to Tawnton with all our provision,  
And there we slew the Provost of Peniyn,  
For that he there did sit in high Commission:  
He was not wise, nor yet of great discretion,  
That durst approach his enemies in their rage,  
When wit nor reason could their ire assuage.   

From thence we went to Wells, and were received  
Of this Lord Awdely as our chief captain,  
He had the name, but yet he was deceived,  
For I indeed did rule the clubbish train,  
My cartly Knights true honour did disdain:  
For like doth love his like, 'twill be none other,  
A churl will love a churl, before he will his brother.   

From Wells and Winchester, to Blackheath field,  
And there encamped looking for more aid,  
But when none came, we thought ourselves beguiled.  
Such Cornishmen as knew they were betrayed,  
From us by night away together strayed:  
There might we learn how vain it is to trust  
Our feigned friends, in quarrels so unjust.   

But we that thought our power was strong;  
Were bend to try what ever should betide.  
We were the bolder, for the King so long  
Deferred fight: which so increased our pride,  
That sure we thought the King himself did hide  
Within the City, and with courage haut,  
We did intend the City to assault.   

But he contrary to our expectation,  
Was fully bend to let us run our race,  
Till we were farthest from our habitation,  
Where that of aid or succour was no place,  
And then be plagued as it should please his grace:  
All doubtful plaints, how ever they did sound,  
To our best vail we always did expound.   

When that the King saw time, with courage bold  
He sent a power to cirumvent us all:  
Where we enclosed as simple sheep in fold,  
Were slaughtered all as beasts in butcher's stall:  
The King himself, what ever might befall,  
Was strongly armed within Saint George's field,  
And there abode till that he heard us yield.   

Then down we kneeled, and cried to save our life,  
It was too late our folly to bewail:  
There were we spoiled of armour, coat, and knife:  
And we which thought the City to assail,  
Were led as prisoners naked as my nail.  
Of us two thousand they had slain before,  
And we of them three hundred and no more.   

My Lord and we the Captains of the West,  
Took Inn at Newgate, fast in fetters tie,  
Where after doom we had but little rest.  
My Lord through London was drawn on a slide,  
To Tower hill, where with an axe he died,  
Clad in his armour painted all in paper,  
Torn and reversed in spite of his behaviour.   

With Flamoke I and other of our bent,  
As traitors at Tyburn our judgement did obey:  
The people looked I should my fault lament,  
To whom I spoke, that for my fond assay,  
I should have fame that never should decay:  
Whereby ye may perceive vain glory doth inflame  
As well the meaner sort, as men of greater name.   

But as the fickle patient, sometime hath desire,  
To taste the things that Physic hath denied,  
And hath both pain and sorrow for his hire:  
The same to me right well may be applied,  
Which while I reached for fame on shame did slide,  
And seeking fame, brought forth my bitter bane,  
As he that fired the temple of Diane.   

I tell thee Baldwine, I muse oft, to see  
How every man for wealth and honour gapeth,  
How every man would climb above the sky,  
How every man th' assured mean so hateth,  
How froward Fortune oft their purpose mateth:  
And if they hap their purpose to obtain,  
Their wealth is woe, their honour care and pain.   

We see the servant happier than his Lord,  
We see him live when that his Lord is dead,  
He sleepeth sound, is merry at his board,  
No sorrow in his heart doth vex his head:  
Happy is he that poverty can wed.  
What gain the mighty men when they be dead,  
By all the spoil, and blood that they have shed?   

The lofty tower where honour hath his seat,  
Is high on rocks more slipper than the ice,  
Where still the whirling wind doth roar and beat,  
Where sudden qualms and perils still arise,  
And is beset with many sundry vice,  
So strange to men when first they come thereat,  
They be amazed, and do they wot not what.   

He that prevails, and to the tower can climb,  
With toil and care must needs abridge his days:  
And he that slides may curse the hour and time  
He did attempt to give so fond assays,  
And all his life to grief and shame obeys.  
Thus slide he down, or to the top ascend,  
Assure himself repentance is the end.   

Baldwine therefore do thou record my name,  
For precedent to such as credit lies,  
Or thirst to suck the sugared cup of fame,  
Or do attempt against their Prince to rise:  
And charge them all to keep within their size.  
Who doth assay to wrest beyond his strength,  
Let him be sure he shall repent at length.   

At my request admonish thou all men,  
To spend the talon well which God hath lent,  
He that hath one, let him not toil for ten,  
For one's too much, unless it be well spent:  
I have had proof, therefore I now repent,  
Thrice happy are those men, yea blessed is he,  
Who can contented serve in his degree.   M. Cavil.  

HOW THE VALIANT KNIGHT SIR NICHOLAS Burdet, Chief Butler of Normandy, was slain at Pontoise, Anno Dom. 1441.  

IF erst in King's affairs we counted were of trust,  
To fight in waged wars, as Captains 'gainst the foes,  
And might therefore alive receive the guerdon just,  
Which aye his Majesty employed on those:  
Why should we so keep silence now, and not disclose  
Our noble acts to those remain alive,  
T' encourage them the like exploits t'achieve?   

For if when as we warred, for Prince and public weal,  
We might to each for both have time and place to speak,  
Then why not now, if we to both appeal?  
Sith both well know our dealings were not weak.  
We claim as right, in truth our minds to break,  
The rather eke we think to speak we franchized are,  
Because we served for peace and died in Prince's war.   

Which granted so, and held deserved due,  
I may full well on stage supply the place a while,  
Till I have plainly laid before your view  
That I have cause, as these, to plain of Fortune's guile,  
Which smirking though at first, she seem to smooth and smile,  
(If Fortune be) who deemed themselves in skies to dwell,  
She thirleth down to dread the gulfs of ghastly hell.   

But here I let a while the Lady Fortune stay,  
To tell what time I lived, and what our wars were then,  
The great exploits we did, and where our armies lay,  
Eke of the praise of some right honourable men,  
Which things with eyes I saw, called now to mind again.  
What I performed present in the fight,  
I will in order and my fall recite.   

In youth I served that royal Henry fifth the King,  
Whose praise for martial feats eternal fame retains,  
When he the normans stout did in subjection bring,  
Myself was under then his ensigns taking pains.  
With loyal heart I fought, pursued my Prince his gains,  
There dealt I so that time my fame to raise,  
French writers yet my name and manhood praise.   

And erst as Burdets' divers warlike wights  
(In Warwick shire their lands in Arrow are)  
Were for good service done made worthy Knights,  
Whose noble acts be yet recounted far:  
Even so myself well framed to peace or war,  
Of these the heir by due descent I came,  
Sir Nicholas Burdet Knight, which had to name.   

That time the noble john of Bedford Duke bare sway,  
And feared was in France for courage stout and fell,  
He loved me for my fight and person, (though I say)  
And with revenues me rewarded yearly well.  
I played the faithful subjects part, the truth to tell,  
And was accounted loyal, constant still,  
Of stomach, worship great, and warlike skill.   

But then (O grief to tell) ere long this peerless King,  
When he restored had his right unto the Crown  
The Duchy all of Normandy, eke subject bring  
The frenchmen all, and set Lieutenants in each town  
High Regent made of France, than Fortune 'gan to frown,  
He then departed life, too soon alas:  
Some men suppose his grace empoisoned was.   

Thou Fortune sly, what meanest thou thus, these pranks to play?  
False Fortune blere eyed blind, unsteady startling still,  
What meanest thou turning thus thy flattering face away,  
Inconstant where thou bearest most good will?  
Is it thy nature then? or ist thy wont skill?  
It cost thee nought, they say it comes by kind,  
As thou art bisme, so are thine actions blind.   

I nothing doubt than thou thyself shalt fall.  
I trust to see the time when thou shalt be forgot.  
For why thy pride, and pomp and power must vanish all,  
Thy name shall die for ay, and perish quite I wot.  
And when thou shalt be counted but a sot,  
The noble wights which lived and died in worthy fame,  
In heaven and earth shall find an everlasting name.   

But words of course are these of Fortune had,  
When unto Prince's haps chance good or ill:  
God sends to every sort these tempests sad,  
When from his word they serve and heavenly will.  
Men must endeavour then to please his goodness still,  
And then come life or death, come joy, come smart,  
No Fortune's frown can daunt the doughty heart.   

The famous King so dead, his son but nine months' old  
Henry the sixth, of England was proclaimed King:  
And then the Frenchmen waxed more stout and bold,  
His youth occasion gave them to conspire the thing,  
Which might them all from due subjection bring.  
On which the Counsel called a Parliament:  
Of French that might the treasons high prevent.   

VTherein the Duke of Bedford my good Lord and friend  
Was Regent made the Prince his deputy in France:  
The Duke of Gloucester Protector was, to th' end  
To rule in cases such at home might hap to chance:  
They chose to guard the Prince in honour to advance  
Henry Benford Bishop of Winchester,  
And Thomas the noble Duke of Excester.   

But here before those things could well be settled sure,  
(As great affairs of Kingdoms longer time do take)  
The Frenchmen did by treason, force, and coin procure  
Some towns which English were in France their faith forsake.  
A long discourse it were of all recital make:  
But of my chance that time, recite will I,  
Which served in wars my Prince in Normandy.   

Before the Mount S. Michael as in siege I lay,  
In confines of the Normans and the Britons land,  
From townsmen famished nigh we victuals kept away,  
And made them oft in danger of dis-Mounting stand:  
But it being strong and also stoutly man'd,  
Even by our losses they gate heart of grass,  
And we declining saw what Fortune was.   

Yet ne'ertheless we thought by famine make them yield,  
Eke they by fight or succours hoped the siege to raise,  
T'accomplish which they rushed on sudden out to field,  
As bend to die or win the wanted food with praise:  
And we as ready were for them at all assays.  
These eager imps whom food want feazed to fight amain,  
We forced them die, fall, fly, to take their fort again.   

Where I in chase pursued them even to the town,  
Ta'en prisoner was, a while for ransom lay:  
But then the worthy Duke the Regent of renown,  
Did for me quite disburse the price required to pay.  
The siege we raised, from thence we went our way,  
And I redeemed bare this blank in mind,  
Till of requite I might occasion find.   

Which thus ere long befell, to this a while give ear:  
When Arthur Earl of Richmond to S. jaques came  
De Bewron where myself and other Captains were,  
Which had repaired well and fortified the same,  
We made him fly, to his immortal shame:  
Even thus to him and forty thousand more,  
Five hundred English gave the overthroe.   

Long while he battery laid against the wall,  
Thereby to make a breach for them to enter in:  
But well perceiving still his shot to profit small,  
And that we weighed not of his power a pin,  
On every side afresh he did th' assault begin:  
Yet we so bore them off, and beat them down,  
They durst not seize or enter on the town.   

But wearied with the siege and fault they pausd a while,  
Consulting what were best, and so did we likewise:  
They found the feat, they thought should surely us beguile,  
And in an evening came t'accomplish th' enterprise.  
A sharp assault they gave. Alarm my mates we rise:  
On both the sides they scald, the fort to gain:  
But from the scales and walks we flung them down amain.   

It was my charge that time to keep a bulwark base,  
Where Britons came along to enter by a strait:  
'Twas in a bottom low, a pond was by the place,  
By which they needs must pass up to a postern gate.  
I meant to make them fish the pool without a bait,  
Protesting ere they there should get the wall  
We would as English die, or give our foes the fall.   

The trumpets sound tan tara, tan tan tara right,  
The guns were shot founce-founce-founce, fomp-fum, fow-powthow,  
The drums went downe-dun down, the flutes fit-fite-fit-fite,  
The weapon's clish-clash and the captains now-now now.  
With bills we beat them down, with shafts we shot them throw.  
The gory ground did groan, the smoky shot and cries  
Dimmed all the air, and thundered through the skies.   

S. Device cried the French, and Britons glahe-lahee,  
S. George the English cried, fight-fight-fight, kill-kill-kill:  
Fight-fight (quoth I) come on, they flee, they flee, they flee.  
And therewithal we use a point of warlike skill,  
We caused the men within to cry unto us still,  
Fight Suffolk now, fight-fight and Salisbury:  
Fight fight you noble Earls, the Britons flee they flee.   

With that amazed all the Britons 'gan recoil,  
Some drowned in the pond, wherein they ran for fear,  
And I pursued the flight, to wreck my captive foil,  
We paid them in the chase disordered as they were,  
Seven hundred slew, took fifty prisoners there,  
Gained eighteen standards, and one banner more:  
Yet I and mine not fully were fourscore.   

Of this exploit when th' Earl of Richmond heard,  
Which gave an hot assault on th' otherside the town,  
No less was he displeased, amazed, then afeard,  
To hear the names of those two Earls of high renown,  
His guilty courage quailed, his heart was daunted down,  
He caused the trumpets sound retreat away:  
To scale our walls he durst no longer stay.   

At midnight he dislodgd, from siege he made depart  
The Constable of France (late Earl of Richmond) fled,  
And toward Fougiers sped, with such as took his part,  
For haste perhaps with fear lest he should lose his head.  
They left two hundred pipes of flower and biscuit bread,  
Great guns fourteen, three hundred pipes of wine,  
Two hundred frails of figs and raisins fine.   

Five hundred barrels they of herring left beside,  
Of powder for our guns full forty barrels more,  
They fled without their tents, the dasterds durst not bide,  
For fear they could not stay, to take away their store.  
Have you oft heard the like, of cowards such before?  
Those forty thousand, Britons, French, and Scots,  
Four score them foiled, made them flee like sots.   

When this, that noble man, the Duke of Bedford heard,  
How I did quit myself, and served my Prince so well,  
He me procured of the King as great reward  
As my deserts could wish, and more the truth to tell,  
Chief Butlership of Normandy unto me fell,  
Revenues eke in Normandy of lands,  
A thousand crowns came yearly to my hands.   

I after this was sent to make inroad  
Upon the coast of Britain, for to bate their pride,  
A band of horsemen took without abode,  
The Duke of Somerset made me their guide,  
To many towns about their bounds we ride:  
Set them on fire, or made them ransom pay,  
took store of prisoners, wrought them much decay.   

Returned victors safe to Normandy,  
With good success, for why the cause was good:  
And of our Prince were guerdoned gratefully  
With laud and gifts, as for our service stood.  
This makes the captains venture life and blood,  
And soldiers serve with heart in what they may,  
Which are assured of honour, praise, and pay.   

Ye worthy wights alive, which love your countries weal,  
And for your Prince's port such wars do undertake,  
Learn so for Country yours with foreign foes to deal,  
See that of manhood good, so great accounts ye make.  
It nothing veils in peace, to swear, stir, face or crack:  
In wars he wins the fame of noble wight  
Who warlike deals, for Prince and public right.   

If you so pointed be, to serve your Prince in war,  
As erst was I, and must before the muster take,  
Retain such soldiers as well made, strong, seemly are,  
Brought up to labour hard, of such account do make:  
These able are at need to stand and keep the stake,  
When facing foisters fit for Tyburn frays  
Are food-sick faint, or heart-sick run their ways.   

At whom a man may find a number every day,  
Which wear their weapons still, as all the world were war,  
And keep a coil to bear the best of blades away,  
With bucklers brave at backs, to show what men they are.  
In peace at home they swear, stare, foist, roist, fight, and jar:  
But when abroad they fear of wars the smart,  
Some better soldiers prove from driving cart.   

In wars to serve (as we) and weapons have  
When warlike storms do rage beseems a warlike man:  
In pleasant peace who sets himself to banding brave,  
And facing fares at home, abroad do nothing can,  
(Though near so much he boast) fie on him coward than:  
For not in gauntlet, sword, targe, oaths, hair, staring eyes:  
But in the breast, good courage, virtue lies.   

But here perhas (you say) I fall a note too low,  
Beneath the persons of these worthy Peers and me.  
'tis true indeed, and yet such fruit hereof may grow:  
As eke the mean hereby, his jarring out may see.  
Without good mean, the song can never sweetly 'gree.  
Leave out the mean, or let him keep no tune:  
And you shall sing when Easter falls in june.   

Even so, if meaner sorts do jangle here and jar  
To languish under Mars, but fill good peace with fight,  
As discord foul in music, fit they for the war:  
They never can achieve the victory aright.  
Led such as square or fear, then farewell all, good night.  
A sheep is even as good to starting stand and bea:  
As he that jangles, wrangles, rangles, runs awea.   

Then whoso deals for war, must wisely make his mart,  
And choose such soldiers stout will stiff in warfare stand.  
If he not reck what ruffian roisters take his part,  
He weeldes unwisely then the mace of Mars in hand.  
He must be able eke, to deem for sea and land  
What men may serve, to best advantage make,  
And them instruct fine warlike points to take.   

With skilful knowledge freight he must be void of fear,  
Of wisdom so discreet, so sober, grave and sage,  
To deem, perceive, abide, adventures both to bear  
As may in all exploits of fight with Fortune wage:  
He must have art in ure, and use not rule by rage:  
Wise dealing sets the soldiers sure in ray,  
Wild over rashness casteth all away:   

The cause, ground, place and time, the order of their fights,  
The valour of his foes, and what is their intent,  
The weather fair or foul, occasion of the nights,  
What witty wiles and policies may them prevent,  
And how the time or store of th' enemies hath been spent:  
All these (I say) must well be weighed before,  
By him that sets in wars of credit store.   

In all which points that noble Duke his grace did pass,  
I mean the Regent good, for choosing, using men,  
By nature framed thereto, he wondrous skilful was,  
And friendly used all, instructing now and then  
Not only Captains stout, that were his country men,  
But also sundry soldiers as occasion came,  
And taught them how to wars themselves to frame.   

His princely grace and gesture yet me thinks I see,  
And how he bore himself, to deal for war or peace:  
In war full Mars-like, hardy, stern, and bold was he:  
And meek and prudent, merciful, when storms of wars did cease:  
Whom pity moved as much inflicted pains to release,  
As ever wight in whom the broils of war  
Or force of fights, had entered in so far.   

Which if again to rue the loss of such a friend,  
In sight with plaints, of tears the fountains out might flow  
So all lamenting Muses would me wail lend,  
The dolours of my heart in sight again to show:  
I would deplore his death, and England's cause of woe,  
With such sad mourning tunes, and such sobs, sighs, and tears  
As were not seen for one, this ten times twenty years.   

For why this noble Prince, when we had needed most,  
To set the states of France and England in a stay,  
That feared was of foes in every foreign coast,  
Too soon (alas) this Duke was taken hence away.  
In France he died, he lass lament his loss we may,  
That Regent regal, rule of public right.  
Lo how my hurts afresh beweep this wanted wight.   

" With that his wounds (me thought) 'gan freshly bleed,  
" And he waxed faint and fell, and my salt tears  
" Ran down my rueful cheeks, with trickling speed,  
" (For who could choose that such cause sees and hears?)  
" O worthy Knight (quoth I) whose loyal faith appears:  
" Cease wails, rise up, instruct my quivering pen,  
" To tell the rest of Fortune's doublings then.   

I have (quoth he) not Fortunes flattery to accuse,  
Nor Fate nor Destiny, nor any fancy feigned:  
I have no cause t'affirm that these could ought misuse  
This noble Prince, whose life & acts such fame and honour gained,  
But our deserts, our sins, and our offences stained  
This noble Isle and us, our sins (I say)  
Offending God, he took this Prince away.   

He lass how loath can I return, and leave this pearl in Roan  
My Lord john Duke of Bedford, there his corpse yet lies  
Enclosed with costly tomb, wrought curiously of stone,  
By North the altar high (delighting many Martial eyes)  
Within our Lady Church, where fame him lifts to skies,  
By daily view his name renoum'd exalted is,  
And soul, I trust, full sweetly sweames in bliss.   

Needs must I interline my talk a while with this:  
And then I will return to tell you how I sped.  
When once the French men saw this noble Duke to miss,  
Which English armies all 'gainst foes with fortunes led  
They lived at large, rebelled against their sovereign head,  
Forsook their oaths, allegiance all denied,  
And English men with all their force defied.   

While he did live, they durst not so to deal,  
They durst not dare with th' English oft to fray,  
They found it was not for their own of public weal,  
To rise against their Lord the Regent in array.  
Soon after he was dead, departed hence away  
Both French and normans close to win did close,  
And we divided were, our rights abroad to lose.   

The fiend (I think) devised a way to make the breach,  
By envy bred in breasts of two right noble Peers,  
Which mischief hatched in England, then may teach  
All noble men that live, hence many hundred years,  
Beware of Envy black, how far she dears.  
Even their examples tell, how true our Christ doth say:  
Each realm, town, house, in civil strife, shall desolate decay:   

Perdie the Duke of York was Regent made of France,  
At which the Duke of Somerset did much repine,  
He thought they rather ought him so t'advance  
King Henry's kin, for honour of his Princely line:  
But mark the grape which grew on this ungracious vine,  
I will not say it after stroid their lines and houses nigh,  
But this I say, we daily saw dishonour came thereby.   

For though the haughty Duke were worthy it to have,  
As well for courage good as virtues honour due:  
Yet sith toth' Duke of York th' election first it gave,  
And he the saddle mist, what needed he to rue?  
When tumults great and stirs in France yet daily grew,  
He nild the Regent hence dispatched in many days:  
That loss might win him hurt, or long dispraise.   

Wild wengand on such ire, whereby the realm doth lose,  
What gain have they, which heave at honour so?  
At home disdain and grief, abroad they friend their foes.  
I must be plain in that which wrought my webs of woe,  
My webs (quoth I?) would God they had wrought no more.  
It was the cause of many a bleeding English breast,  
And to the French, their end of woeful wars addressed.   

I dare avouch if they had firm in friendship bode,  
And sooth as beseemed joined friendly hand with hands,  
They had not felt defame in any foreign road,  
Nor had not so been sent, with loss from Gallia strands:  
They might possession kept, still of their conquered lands,  
And able been to tried themselves so true,  
As might have made their enemies still to rue.   

For while the Duke of Somerset made here so great delays,  
That into France the succours small and slackly came,  
Not only Paris then was lost, within few days,  
That famous flower of France, of far renowned fame,  
The French (I say) not only got and kept the same,  
But by this means, in France we daily felt such smart,  
As might with pity pierce an adamantine heart.   

O great mishap, the noble Duke of Bedford once being dead,  
Our wealth went back, by discords foul despite we lost  
Not only towns in France, and Captains armies led,  
But many soldiers eke with labour, expense and cost:  
And though full oft we made the French men smell of the roast,  
Yet in the end we gain of fight the fame,  
And they by craft and treason gate the game.   

What resteth more, it were, perdie, too long to tell,  
Of battles great and broils which happened daily still,  
The stories eke declare adventures which befell:  
Although (God wot) the writers wanted points of skill,  
Of whom to speak a while, digress again I will,  
And partly show what one he ought to be,  
Which takes on him to write an History.   

A Chronicler should well in divers tongues be seen,  
And eke in all the arts he ought to have a sight,  
Whereby he might the truth of divers actions deem,  
And both supply the wants, correct that is not right:  
He should have eloquence, and full and fitly write,  
Not mangle stories, snatching here and there:  
Nor gloze to make a volume great appear.   

He should be of such countenance and wit,  
As should give witness to the Histories he writes,  
He should be able well his reasons so to knit,  
As should continue well the matter he recites:  
He should not praise, dispraise, for favour or despites,  
But should so place each thing in order due,  
As might approve the stories to be true.   

But this may haps the time may seek at length redress,  
And then such stories now and noble acts as die,  
May come again to light (at least defaced less)  
If from the Britain's first antiquities they try.  
In great defects if they the truth supply,  
Then shall the readers fuller stories find,  
And have whereby to recreate the mind.   

But now return I must, and briefly here declare  
Before my death, what sundry haps we had.  
In wars right variously the states of Captains fare,  
Now well, now woe, now joyful, now right sad.  
But who well ends, though all his haps were bad,  
Let him erst sink or swim, lose, win, be slain, die, fall,  
If he die well, he's thrice and four times blest of all.   

In France eight leagues from Paris, Pontoise stands,  
(tween that and Roan) which we had won before:  
And so we held it English safely in our hands.  
For to our Prince the men allegiance swore,  
And they remained obedient evermore,  
Till from their necks to reave the English yoke,  
They might find means by whom to strike the stroke.   

When these saw Paris lost, and cities more beside,  
And what in France and Normandy revolts had done,  
They thought no longer subject to abide,  
But sought occasion how they might by French be won.  
As of our loss reports did daily to them run,  
So with King Charles th' agreed when to betray the town,  
And force the English flee, or yield, or beat them down.   

For why, the power of France could not with mighty host  
Perform to win by force from us th' assaulted town,  
Them scaling often from the walls we tossed.  
On every side full fast we flung the French men down.  
Our noble acts before had gotten such renown,  
And Fortune erst had passed with us so far,  
They had small hope to win our forts by war.   

Wherefore King Charles assayed the secret saut,  
Not by his force of French, but by his golden fee,  
Corrupting divers burgesses to make the fault,  
Whereby an entry should to his oppugning be:  
And they (as erst is said) were willing to agree,  
Like perjured thieves conspired by secret fine device,  
Gave Pontoise up, and took the promised price.   

But in November next when it was sharp and cold,  
And daily frost had dried and parched hard the ground,  
We were in hope again to get of Pontoise hold,  
Which erst the townsmen sold, for gain of many a pound  
The snow fell fast, lay thick, and covered well the ground,  
And ditches were so hard about the town befrore,  
That on the ice by every side we safely might get over.   

The Lord john Clifford was chief Captain then,  
Which with us Captains did this policy devise,  
That we in clothing white and soldiers every man,  
Should in our armour finely us disguise:  
The next night so we should to the assault arise,  
And pass the frozen ditch unto the wall,  
With ladder's scale, and kill the watchmen all.   

We so prepared ourselves as time occasion gave,  
And dressed in white coats trim, it joyed our hearts to see  
How fine we passed the ditch, what good success we have:  
How on the walls we find the watch nigh frozen be:  
As noble greeks on Troy, on Pontoise seasoned we,  
We slew the watch, we beat the soldiers down,  
Some prisoners took, and took withal the town.   

Of stately Captains French, was john de Villers one  
Within the taken town, and Narrabon a Knight  
Burgunion: yet they fled, away they gate them gone:  
They durst not bide against the blanched boys to fight.  
We paid the perjured knaves the Burgesses that night,  
And got as much of honour and renown  
As they got shame and loss, which bought and sold the town.   

Mark well the French men's foils in all our worthy war  
In these two regal Henry's times, and you shall see  
How we surpassed the French in valour far:  
And bend for Prince and Realm so valiant for to be:  
Which if ye shall, and deal in service as did we,  
I nothing doubt renown and fame shall say,  
That noble England bears for wars the palm away.   

But When King Charles had heard how Pontoise men had sped,  
His army strait assembled he therefore again,  
Wherewith to win this town afresh th' assault he led,  
He piners set to trench and undermine amain,  
Made bastiles for defence, yet all this toil was vain.  
For battery of our walls he spent his powder still,  
Made freshly French assaults, but did no ill.   

The noble Duke of York discharged late before,  
When now the Earl of Warwick chanced at Roan to die,  
Being Regent chosen once again of France, as yore,  
(Th' Earl of Warwick Regent was two years perdie)  
Arrived in France, to rouse the French King he did high,  
(Which lay besieging Pontoise, as I said)  
With him to fight, and eke to bring us aid.   

The French King fled, for haste he left his store behind:  
When he was once assured the Duke of York drew near,  
He durst not stay to bide the time or place assigned  
To fight our Regent with, but fled away for fear.  
By these assays you see what men in France they were,  
Discouraged oft, slain, put to flight and fall:  
By sight, force, fight, and names of numbers small.   

There when the Duke had fortified our Pontoise town,  
Then he pursued the French King erst that fled,  
To Poyssy, where he lay with Lords of French renown.  
Before which town, the Duke his noble army led:  
The French King durst not out of Poyssy put his head:  
And yet there came to skirmish out French gentlemen,  
Of which some slain, four ta'en, the rest retired again.   

The Duke to bid him battle did pretend,  
If he could there encounter with him tho:  
But forth again he durst not come nor send,  
For fear he should receive the foil and overthrow.  
On which the Duke dislodged, departing Poyssy fro,  
To Maunt, and Roan, from thence his grace did high,  
T'appease the broils of strife in Normandy.   

But then the French King calling unto mind his loss,  
His charges in the siege, his bastiles trenches made,  
How erst we did them thence, sans bag and baggage toss,  
Eke how from siege he durst not stay the store to lad,  
And how their Fortunes oft, in fight went retrograde,  
How neighbours ill to Paris, we of Pontoise were:  
He cast aside his French and fainting fear.   

The rather yet, for why, Parisiens' aye did rail,  
They said he wanted courage good, he durst not fight,  
He lacked no soldiers good, his feeble heart did fail:  
Le Roy (quoth they) du France, les Anglois point nennit:  
Le Roy ne ose pas pour Pontoise fair pour suit:  
Le Roy est Lourd, sans cueur: car peu de gens,  
Fait nostre Roy & pais fair grand dispens.   

On this King Charles returned with mighty host,  
To vindicate this great reproach and shame:  
And unto Pontoise gave assault in post  
Full hotly, when we feared least the same.  
Whereon, to fight against him all our force we frame,  
But number great at th' entry got such hand,  
We could not forth again their force aband.   

With trumpets sounding, tan tan-tar'aloud  
The alarm bell we rung, ourselves to try dispose,  
To make them pay the price of our distress we vowed,  
Before we would possession got, of Pontoise lose:  
In every street we met the strength of all our foes,  
And made them pass by deadly dint away,  
Which ventured first our English mates to slay.   

Why now my friends, for England fight, I cried:  
If ever English hearts your noble breasts possessed,  
I promise you to make them flinch, if I may bide:  
Mates follow me. Amongst my foes I rushed before the rest:  
O here come on (quoth I) now fight we for the best.  
And therewithal I used such courage, force and might:  
As made my foes to fall, and soldiers fitly fight.   

If we do lose (quoth I) the French men shall not gain:  
So if we win, 'tis worth the while to keep array.  
If ye stand stiffly to't, we'll make them pease the pain,  
And lead with loss of lively limbs the laud away.  
Although they fiercely fight, in hope us all to slay:  
Lo six to one they fall, and dead they lie:  
We English men, in triumph fight, and honour die.   

With bloody broils of war, the hapless town did smoke,  
The children saw their father's dear, to bleed their last:  
The wives be wailed much the fatal stroke,  
Which forced their husbands bleed, fall, die so fast:  
Helas the women cried, the woeful streets that past:  
(When so they saw the channels bloody stream)  
What plague is this, that pesters so our Ream?   

Is no remorse of life, but kill, kill, kill? (he lass)  
Kill, kill the English ctie, and valiantly they fight:  
What hap had we to see these mischiefs come to pass?  
Helas le sang de nous amis, la mort alas:  
The maiden's cry, the widows wail, and aged mourn,  
With wring hands uplift, and wish themselves unborn.   

Of us one thousand English men within the town,  
Sustained the force, the power and puissance of their King:  
And of the French that fought, we beat three thousand down,  
We slew no less, for all the number he did bring.  
If this untrue shall seem, disere dit mine to ring,  
A French Historian writing for themselves shall say:  
Three thousand French men there, were slain that day.   

Four hundred English men that time were slain in fight,  
Myself was one, with loss they won the town perdie:  
But if I might have lived t'have tried our right,  
With one for every seven, by odds as we did die:  
I doubt not (so the rest, would done their parts as I.)  
But that King Charles, his Lords, nor all his men,  
Should scarce have ta'en the town of Pontoise then.   

What need I more debate of these things here,  
In England was the fault, though we did feel the smart.  
While they at home, at bate and strife for honours were,  
They lost abroad of Normandy the greater part.  
To think on this torments again my wounded heart,  
That Lords at home, should strive about the name,  
And lose abroad their country's weal and fame.   

Let English Peers abandon such contentious strife,  
It hurts the public weal, decays the State:  
It reaves the years too soon of longer life:  
It frets the breast with rust of baend debate:  
It gives the check to him that gives the mate:  
Then thus I end, that wight of all is blest  
Which lives in love with God, his Prince and country best.   

So Higins if thou write, how this my fall befell;  
Place it in Baldwines' Mirror with the rest.  
From crazed skull sith here my mind I tell:  
Sith bleeding heart these rueful rhymes expressed:  
This mangled tale beseems my person best.  
Do so (quoth he) and let it pass even thus:  
Vivit (quoth I) post funer a virtus.   john Higins.  

HOW SHORE'S WIFE, KING EDWARD THE FOURTH'S CONCUBINE, WAS by King Richard despoiled of all her goods, and forced to do open penance.  

AMong the rest, by Fortune overthrown,  
I am not least, that most may wail her fate:  
My fame and brute, abroad the world is blown,  
Who can forget, a thing thus done so late?  
My great mischance, my fall, and heavy state,  
Is such a mark, whereat each tongue doth shoot,  
That my good name, is plucked up by the root.   

This wandering world, bewitched me with wiles,  
And won my wits, with wanton sugared joys:  
In Fortune's frekes, who trusts her when she smiles,  
Shall find her false, and full of fickle toys,  
Her triumphs all, but fill our ears with noise,  
Her flattering gifts, are pleasures mixed with pain,  
Yea, all her words, are thunders threatening rain.   

The fond desire, that we in glory set,  
Doth thirl our hearts, to hope in slipper hap:  
A blast of pomp, is all the fruit we get,  
And under that, lies hid a sudden clap.  
In seeking rest, unwares we fall in trap,  
In groping flowers, with nettles stung we are,  
In labouring long, we reap the crop of care.   

Oh dark deceit, with painted face for sho,  
Oh poisoned bait, that makes us eager still,  
Oh feigned friend, deceiving people so,  
Oh world, of thee, we cannot speak too ill:  
Yet fools we are, that bend so to thy skill.  
The plague and scourge, that thousands daily feel,  
Should warn the wise, to shun thy whirling wheel.   

But who can stop, the stream that runs full swift?  
Or quench the fire, that is crept in the straw?  
The thirsty drinks, there is no other shift,  
Perforce is such, that need obeys no law.  
Thus bound we are, in worldly yokes to draw,  
And cannot stay, nor turn again in time,  
Nor learn of those, that sought too high to climb.   

Myself for proof, lo here I now appear,  
In woman's weed, with weeping watered eyes,  
That bought her youth, and her delights full dear,  
Whose loud reproach, doth sound unto the skies,  
And bids my corpse, out of the grave to rise,  
As one that may, no longer hide her face,  
But needs must come, and show her piteous case.   

The sheet of shame, wherein I shrouded was,  
Did move me oft, to plain before this day,  
And in mine cares did ring the trump of brass,  
Which is defame, that doth each thing bewray.  
Yea though full dead, and low in earth I lay,  
I heard the voice, of me what people said,  
But then to speak, alas I was afraid.   

And now a time, for me I see prepared,  
I hear the lives, and falls of many wights:  
My tale therefore, the better may be hared,  
For at the torch, the little candle lights.  
Where pageants be, small things fill out the sights.  
Wherefore give ear, good Churchyard do thy best,  
My tragedy, to place among the rest.   

Because the truth, shall witness well with thee,  
I will rehearse, in order as it fell,  
My life, my death, my doleful destiny,  
My wealth, my woe, my doing every deal,  
My bitter bliss, wherein I long did dwell:  
A whole discourse, by me Shore's wife by name,  
Now shalt thou hear, as thou hadst seen the same.   

Of noble blood, I cannot boast my birth,  
For I was made out of the meanest mould,  
Mine heritage, but seven foot of th' earth,  
Fortune ne gave, to me the gifts of gold:  
But I could brag, of nature if I would,  
Who filled my face, with favour fresh and fair,  
Whose beauty shone, like Phoebus in the air.   

My shape some said, was seemly to each sight,  
My countenance, did show a sober grace,  
Mines eyes in looks, were never proved light,  
My tongue in words was chaste in every case.  
Mine ears were deaf, and would no lovers place,  
Save that, alas, a Prince did blot my brow,  
Lo, there the strong, did make the weak to bow.   

The majesty, that Kings to people bear,  
The stately port, the awful cheer they show,  
Doth make the mean, to shrink and couch for fear,  
Like as the hound, that doth, his master know:  
What then? since ay, was made unto the bow,  
There is no cloak, can serve to hide my fault:  
For I agreed, the fort he should assault.   

The Eagles force, subdues each bird that flies,  
What metal may, resist the flaming fire?  
Doth not the Sun, dazzle the clearest eyes,  
And melt the ice, and make the frost retire?  
Who can withstand, a puissant King's desire?  
The stiffest stones, are pierced through with tools,  
The wisest are, with Princes made but fools.   

If kind had wrought, my form in common frames,  
And set me forth, in colours black and brown,  
Or beauty had, been perched in Phoebus' flames,  
Or shamefast ways, had plucked my feathers down,  
Then had I kept, my fame and good renown:  
For nature's gifts, were cause of all my grief.  
A pleasant prey, enticeth many a thief.   

Thus woe to thee, that wrought my peacocks pride,  
By clothing me with nature's tapestry:  
Woe worth the hue, wherein my face was died,  
Which made me think, I pleased every eye.  
Like as the stars, make men behold the sky,  
So beauties show, doth make the wise full fond,  
And brings free hearts, full oft to endless bond.   

But clear from blame, my friends can not be found,  
Before my time, my youth they did abuse:  
In marriage, a prentice was I bound.  
Then that mere love, I knew not how to use.  
But well away, that cannot me excuse,  
The harm is mine, though they devised my care,  
And I must smart, and sit in slanderous snare.   

Yet give me leave, to plead my cause at large:  
If that the horse, do run beyond his race,  
Or any thing that keepers have in charge,  
Do break their course, where Rulers may take place:  
Or meat be set, before the hungries' face,  
Who is in fault? th' offender yea or no,  
Or they that are, the cause of all this wo.   

Note well what strife, this forced marriage makes,  
What loathed lives, do come where love doth lack,  
What scratching breers, do grow upon such brakes,  
What common weals, by it are brought to wrack,  
What heavy load, is put on patients back,  
What strange delights, this branch of vice doth breed,  
And mark what grain, springs out of such a seed.   

Compel the hawk, to sit that is unmanned,  
Or make the hound, untaught to draw the Deer,  
Or bring the free, against his will in band,  
Or move the sad, a pleasant tale to here,  
Your time is lost, and you no whit the near:  
So love ne learns, of force the knot to knit,  
She serves but those, that feel sweet fancies fit.   

The less defame, redounds to my dispraise,  
I was entist, by trains, and trapped by trust:  
Though in my power, remained yea and nays,  
Unto my friends, yet needs consent I must,  
In every thing, yea lawful or unjust.  
They broke the boughs, and shaked the tree by sleight,  
And bent the wand, that might have grown full straight.   

What help in this, the pale thus broken down,  
The Deer must needs, in danger run astray:  
At me therefore, why should the world so frown?  
My weakness made, my youth a Princes pray.  
Though wisdom should, the course of nature stay,  
Yet try my case, who list, and they shall prove,  
The ripest wits, are soonest thralls to love.   

What need I more, to clear myself so much?  
A King me won, and had me at his call,  
His royal state, his princely grace was such,  
The hope of will, that women seek for all,  
The ease and wealth, the gifts which were not small,  
Besieged me, so strongly round about,  
My power was weak, I could not hold him out.   

Duke Hannibal, in all his conquest great,  
Or Caesar yet, whose triumphs did exceed,  
Of all their spoils, which made them toil and sweat,  
Were not so glad, to have so rich a meed,  
As was this Prince, when I to him agreed,  
And yielded me, a prisoner willingly,  
As one that knew, no way away to fly.   

The Nightingale, for all his merry voice,  
Nor yet the Lark, that still delights to sing,  
Did never make, the hearers so rejoice,  
As I with words, have made this worthy King:  
I never jarred, in tune was every string,  
I tempered so, my tongue to please his ear,  
That what I said, was currant every where.   

I joined my talk, my gestures and my grace,  
In witty frames, that long might last and stand,  
So that I brought, the King in such a case,  
That to his death, I was his chiefest hand.  
I governed him, that ruled all this Land:  
I bore the sword, though he did wear the Crown,  
I struck the stroke, that threw the mighty down.   

If justice said, that judgement was but death,  
With my sweet words, I could the King persuade,  
And make him pause, and take therein a breath,  
Till I with suit, the faultors' peace had made:  
I knew what way, to use him in his trade,  
I had the art, to make the Lion meek,  
There was no point, wherein I was to seek.   

If I did frown, who then did look a wry?  
If I did smile, who would not laugh outright?  
If I but speak, who durst my words deny?  
If I pursued, who would forsake the flight?  
I mean, my power, was known to every wight.  
On such a height, good hap had built my bower,  
As though my sweet, should near have turned to sour.   

My husband then, as one that knew his good,  
Refused to keep, a Prince's Concubine,  
foreseing th' end, and mischief as it stood,  
Against the King did never much repine:  
He saw the grape, whereof he drank the wine.  
Though inward thought, his heart did still torment,  
Yet outwardly, he seemed he was content.   

To purchase praise, and win the people's zeal,  
Yea rather bend, of kind to do some good,  
I ever did, uphold the common weal,  
I had delight, to save the guiltless blood:  
Each suitors cause, when that I understood,  
I did prefer, as it had been mine own,  
And help them up, that might have been o'erthrown.   

My power was priest, to right the poor man's wrong,  
My hands were free, to give where need required:  
To watch for grace, I never thought it long,  
To do men good, I need not be desired.  
Nor yet with gifts, my heart was never hired.  
But when the ball, was at my foot to guide,  
I played to those, that Fortune did abide.   

My want was wealth, my woe was ease at will,  
Nigh robes were rich, and braver than the sun:  
My Fortune then, was far above my skill,  
My state was great, my glass did ever run.  
My fatal thread, so happily was spun,  
That then I sat, in earthly pleasures clad,  
And for the time, a Goddess place I had.   

But I had not, so soon this life possessed,  
But my good hap, began to slip aside:  
And Fortune then, did me so sore molest,  
That unto plaints, was turned all my pride.  
It booted not, to row against the tide:  
Mine oars were weak, my heart and strength did sail,  
The wind was rough, I durst not bear a sail.   

What steps of strife, belong to high estate?  
The climbing up, is doubtful to endure,  
The seat itself, doth purchase privy hate,  
And honours fame, is fickle and unsure,  
And all she brings, is flowers that be unpure:  
Which fall as fast, as they do sprout and spring,  
And cannot last, they are so vain a thing.   

We count no care, to catch that we do wish,  
But what we win is long to us unknown:  
Till present pain, be served in our dish,  
We scarce perceive, whereon our grief hath grown:  
What grain proves well, that is so rashly sown?  
If that a mean, did measure all our deeds,  
In steed of corn, we should not gather weeds.   

The settled mind, is free from Fortune's power,  
They need not fear, who look not up aloft:  
But they that climb, are careful every hour,  
For when they fall, they light not very soft.  
Examples have, the wisest warned oft,  
That where the trees, the smallest branches bear,  
The storms do blow, and have most rigour there.   

Where is it strong, but near the ground and root?  
Where is it weak, but on the highest sprays?  
Where may a man, so surely set his foot,  
But on those bows, that groweth low always?  
The little twigs, are but unsteadfast stays,  
If they break not, they bend with every blast,  
Who trusts to them, shall never stand full fast.   

The wind is great, upon the highest hills,  
The quiet life, is in the dale below:  
Who treads on ice, shall slide against their wills,  
They want not cares, that curious arts would know.  
Who lives at ease, and can content him so,  
Is perfect wise, and sets us all to school,  
Who hates this lore, may well be called a fool.   

What greater grief, may come to any life,  
Then after sweet, to taste the bitter sour?  
Or after peace, to fall at war and strife,  
Or after mirth, to have a cause to lower?  
Under such props, false Fortune builds her bower,  
On sudden change, her flittering frames be set,  
Where is no way, for to escape the net.   

The hasty smart, that Fortune sends in spite,  
Is hard to brook, where gladness we embrace:  
She threatens not, but suddenly doth smite,  
Where joy is most, there doth she sorrow place.  
But sure I think, this is too strange a case,  
For us to feel, such grief amid our game,  
And know not why, until we taste the same.   

As erst I said, my bliss was turned to bale,  
I had good cause, to weep and wring my hands,  
And show sad cheer, with countenance full pale:  
For I was brought, in sorrows woeful bands.  
A pirrie came, and set my ship on sands.  
What should I hide, or colour care and noy?  
King Edward died, in whom was all my joy.   

And when the earth, received had his corpse,  
And that in tomb, this worthy Prince was laid,  
The world on me, began to show his force,  
Of troubles then, my part I long assayed:  
For they of whom, I never was afraid,  
Undid me most, and wrought me such despite,  
That they bearest, me from my pleasure quite.   

As long as life, remained in Edward's breast,  
Who was but I? who had such friends at call?  
His body was, no sooner put in chest,  
But well was he, that could procure my fall:  
His brother was, mine enemy most of all,  
Protector then, whose vice did still abound,  
From ill to worse, till death did him confound.   

He falsely feigned, that I of counsel was,  
To poison him, which thing I never meant:  
But he could set, thereon a face of brass,  
To bring to pass, his lewd and false intent.  
To such mischief, this tyrant's heart was bend,  
To God, ne man, he never stood in awe,  
For in his wrath, he made his will a law.   

Lord Hastings blood, for vengeance on him cries,  
And many more, that were too long to name:  
But most of all; and in most woeful wise,  
I had good cause, this wretched man to blame,  
Before the world, I suffered open shame,  
Where people were, as thick as is the sand,  
I penance took, with taper in my hand.   

Each eye did stare, and look me in the face,  
As I passed by, the rumours on me ran,  
But patience then, had lent me such a grace,  
My quiet looks, were praised of every man:  
The shamefast blood, brought me such colour than,  
That thousands said, which saw my sober cheer,  
It is great ruth, to see this woman here.   

But what prevailed, the people's pity there?  
This raging wolf, would spare no guiltless blood.  
Oh wicked womb, that such ill fruit did bear,  
Oh cursed earth, that yieldeth forth such mud:  
The hell consume, all things that did thee good,  
The heavens shut, their gates against thy spirit,  
The world tread down, thy glory under feet.   

I ask of God, a vengeance on thy bones,  
Thy stinking corpse, corrupts the air I know:  
Thy shameful death, no earthly wight bemoans,  
For in thy life, thy works were hated so,  
That every man, did wish thy overthrow:  
Wherefore I may, though partial now I am,  
Curse every cause, whereof thy body came.   

Woe worth the man, that fathered such a child,  
Woe worth the hour, wherein thou wast begat:  
Woe worth the breasts, that have the world beguiled,  
To nourish thee, that all the world did hate.  
Woe worth the gods, that gave thee such a fate,  
To live so long, that death deserved so oft.  
Woe worth the chance, that set thee up aloft.   

Ye Princes all, and Rulers every eachone,  
In punishment, beware of hatreds ire.  
Before ye scourge, take heed, look well thereon:  
In wroths ill will, if malice kindle fire,  
Your hearts will burn, in such a hot desire,  
That in those flames, the smoke shall dim your sight,  
Ye shall forget, to join your justice right.   

You should not judge, till things be well discerned,  
Your charge is still, to maintain upright laws:  
In conscience rules, ye should be thoroughly learned,  
Where clemency, bids wrath and rashness pause,  
And further saith, strike not without a cause:  
And when ye smite, do it for justice sake,  
Then in good part, each man your scourge will take.   

If that such zeal, had moved this tyrant's mind,  
To make my plague, a warrant for the rest,  
I had small cause, such fault in him to find,  
Such punishment, is used for the best:  
But by ill will, and power I was oppressed,  
He spoiled my goods, and left me bare and poor,  
And caused me, to beg from door to door.   

What fall was this, to come from Princes fare,  
To watch for crumbs, among the blind and lame?  
When alms were dealt, I had an hungry share,  
Because I knew not, how to ask for shame,  
Till force and need, had brought me in such frame,  
That starve I must, or learn to beg an alms,  
With book in hand, to say S. David's Psalms.   

Where I was wont, the golden chains to wear,  
A pair of beads, about my neck was wound,  
A linen cloth, was leapt about my hear,  
A ragged gown, that trailed on the ground,  
A dish that clapped, and gave a heavy sound,  
A staying staff, and wallet therewithal,  
I bore about, as witness of my fall.   

I had no house, wherein to hide my head,  
The open street, my lodging was perforce:  
Full oft I went, all hungry to my bed,  
My flesh consumed, I looked like a corpse.  
Yet in that plight, who had on me remorse?  
O God thou knowst, my friends forsook me then,  
Not one holp me, that succred many a man.   

They froun'd on me, that fanned on me before,  
And fled from me, that followed me full fast:  
They hated me, by whom I set much store,  
They knew full well, my fortune did not last.  
In every place, I was condemned and cast,  
To plead my cause, at bar it was no boot,  
For every man, did tread me under foot.   

Thus long I lived, all weary of my life,  
Till death approached, and rid me from that woe:  
Example take, by me, both maid and wife,  
Beware, take heed, fall not to folly so.  
A mirror make, by my great overthrow,  
Defy the world, and all his wanton ways,  
Beware by me, that spent so ill her days.   Tho. Churchyard.  

HOW THOMAS WOLSEY DID ARISE UNTO GREAT authority and government, his manner of life, pomp and dignity, and how he fell down into great disgrace, and was arrested of high treason. Anno, 1530.  

SHall I look on, when States step on the stage,  
And play their parts before the people's face?  
Some men live now, scarce fourscore years of age,  
Who in time past, did know the Cardinals' Grace.  
A gamesome world, when Bishops run at base,  
Yea, get a fall, in striving for the goal,  
And body lose, and hazard silly sole.   

Ambitious mind, a world of wealth would have,  
So scrats and scrapes, for scorfe and scornie dross:  
And till the flesh and bones be hid in grave,  
Wit never rests, to grope for muck and moss.  
Fie on proud pomp, and gilded bridles boss:  
O glorious gold, the gaping after thee,  
So blinds mine eyes, they can no danger see.   

Now note my birth, and mark how I began,  
Behold from whence, rose all this pride of mine,  
My father but, a plain poor honest man,  
And I his son, of wit and judgement fine,  
Brought up at school, and proved a good Divine:  
For which great gifts, degree of school I had,  
And Bachelor was, and I a little lad.   

So, tasting some, of Fortune's sweet concaits,  
I clapped the hood, on shoulder, brave as Son,  
And hoped at length, to bite at better baits,  
And fill my mouth, ere banquet half were done.  
Thus holding on, the course I thought to ron:  
By many a feast, my belly grew so big,  
That Wolsey straight, became a wanton twig.   

Lo what it is, to feed on dainty meat,  
And pamper up, the gorge, with sugar plate:  
Nay, see how lads, in hope of higher seat  
Rise early up, and study learning late.  
But he thrives best, that hath a blessed fate,  
And he speeds worst, that world will near advance,  
Nor never knows, what means good luck nor chance.   

My chance was great, for from a poor man's son,  
I rose aloft, and chopped and changed degree:  
In Oxford first, my famous name begun,  
Where many a day the scholars honoured me.  
Then thought I how, I might a courtier be:  
So came to Court, and feathered there my wing,  
With Henry th' eight, who was a worthy King.   

He did with words, assay me once or twice,  
To see what wit, and ready spirit I had:  
And when he saw, I was both grave and wise,  
For some good cause, the King was wondrous glad.  
Then down I looked, with sober countenance sad,  
But heart was up, as high as hope could go,  
That subtle fox, might win some favour so.   

We work with wiles, the minds of men like wax,  
The fawning whelp, gets many a piece of bred:  
We follow Kings, with many cunning knacks,  
By searching out, how are their humours fed.  
He haunts no Court, that hath a doltish head:  
For as in gold, the precious stone is set,  
So finest wits, in Court the credit get.   

I quickly learned to kneel and kiss the hand,  
To wait at heel, and turn like top about,  
To stretch out neck, and like an Image stand,  
To taunt, to scoff, and face the matter out,  
To press in place, among the greatest rout:  
Yet like a Priest, myself did well behave,  
In fair long gown, and goodly garments grave.   

Where Wolsey went, the world like Beeswould swarm,  
To hear my speech, and note my nature well.  
I could with tongue, use such a kind of charm,  
That voice full clear, should sound like silver bell.  
When head devised, a long discourse to tell,  
With stories strange, my speech should spised be,  
To make the world, to muse the more on me.   

Each tale was sweet, each word a sentence weighed,  
Each ear I pleased, each eye gave me the view,  
Each judgement marked, and paused what I said,  
Each mind I fed, with matter rare and new,  
Each day and hour, my grace and credit grew:  
So that the King, in hearing of this news,  
Devised how, he might my service use.   

He made me then, his Chaplain, to say Mass  
Before his grace, yea twice or thrice a week:  
Now had I time, to trim myself by glass,  
Now found I mean, some living for to seek,  
Now I became, both humble, mild, and meek,  
Now I applied, my wits and senses throw,  
To reap some corn, if God would speed the plow.   

Whom most I saw, in favour with the King,  
I followed fast, to get some hap thereby:  
But I observed, another finer thing,  
That was, to keep, me still in Prince's eye.  
As under wing, the hawk in wind doth lie,  
So for a prey, I prowled here and there,  
And tried friends, and fortune every where.   

The King at length, sent me beyond the seas,  
Embastour then, with message good and great:  
And in that time, I did the King so pleas,  
By short dispatch, and wrought so fine a feat,  
That did advance myself to higher seat,  
The deanery then, of Lincoln he me gave:  
And bounty show'd, before I 'gan to crave.   

His Amner too, he made me all in haste,  
And threefold gifts, he threw upon me still:  
His counsler strait, likewaies was Wolsey placed.  
Thus in short time, I had the world at will:  
Which passed far, man's reason, wit, and skill.  
O hap, thou hast, great secrets in thy might,  
Which long lie hid, from wily worldlings sight.   

As shewres of rain, fall quickly on the grass,  
That fading flowers, are soon refreshed thereby:  
Or as with Sun, the morning dew doth pass,  
And quiet calm, makes clear a troubled sky:  
So Princes power, at twinkling of an eye  
Sets up aloft, a fau'ret on the wheel,  
When giddy brains, about the streets do reel.   

They are but blind, that wake where Fortune sleeps,  
They work in vain, that strive with stream and tide:  
In double guard, they dwell, that destiny keeps,  
In simple sort, they live that lack a guide:  
They miss the mark, that shoot their arrows wide,  
They hit the prick, that make their flight to glance  
So near the white, that shaft may light on chance.   

Such was my luck, I shot no shaft in vain,  
My bow stood bend, and brased all the year:  
I waited hard, but never lost my pain:  
Such wealth came in, to bear the charges clear.  
And in the end, I was the greatest peer  
Among them all, for I so ruled the land,  
By King's consent, that all was in my hand.   

Within on year, three bishoprics I had,  
And in small space, a Cardinal I was made:  
With long red robes, rich Wolsey then was clad,  
I walked in Sun, when others sat in shade:  
I went abroad, with such a train and trade,  
With crosses borne, before me where I passed,  
That man was thought, to be some God at last.   

With sons of Earls, and Lords I served was,  
An hundred chains, at least were in my train:  
I daile drank in gold, but not in glass,  
My bread mass made, of finest flower and grain:  
My dainty mouth, did common meats disdain,  
I fed like Prince, on fowls most dear and strange,  
And banquets made, of fine conceits for change.   

My hall was full, of Knights, and Squires of name,  
And gentlemen, two hundred told by pole:  
Tale yeomen too, did hourly serve the same,  
Whose names each week, I saw within check role,  
All went to church, when service bell did knole,  
All dined and supped and slept, at Cardinals' charge,  
And all would wait, when Wolsey took his barge.   

My household stuff, my wealth and silver plate,  
Might well suffice, a Monarch at this day:  
I never fed, but under cloth of state,  
Nor walked abroad, till Vshars cleared the way.  
In house I had, musicians for to play,  
In open street, my trumpets loud did sound,  
Which pierced the skies, and seemed to shake the ground.   

My men most brave, marched two and two in rank,  
Who held in length, much more than half a mile:  
Not one of these, but gave his master thank,  
For some good turn, or pleasure got some while.  
I did not feed, my servants with a smile,  
Or glozing words, that never bring forth fruit,  
But gave them gold, or else preferred their suit.   

In surety so whiles God was pleased, I stood,  
I knew I must, leave all my wealth behind:  
I saw they loved, me not for birth or blood,  
But served a space, to try my noble mind.  
The more men give, the more indeed they find  
Of love, and troth, and service, every way:  
The more they spare, the more doth love decay.   

jioide to see, my servants thrive so well,  
And go so gay, with little that they got:  
For as I did in honour still excel,  
So would I oft, the want of servants note:  
Which made my men, on master so to dote,  
That when I said, let such a thing be done,  
They would indeed, through fire and water run.   

I had in house, so many off'cers still,  
Which were obeyed, and honoured for their place,  
That careless I, might sleep or walk at will,  
Save that sometime, I weighed a poor man's case,  
And salved such sores, whose grief might breed disgrace.  
Thus men did wait, and wicked world did gaze,  
On me and them, that brought us all in maze.   

For world was whist, and durst not speak a word  
Of that they saw, my credit curbed them so:  
I waded far, and passed o'er the ford,  
And minded not, for to return I trow.  
The world was wise, yet scarce itself did know,  
When wonder made, of men that rose by hap:  
For Fortune rare, falls not in each man's lap.   

I climbed the clouds, by knowledge and good wit,  
My men sought chance, by service or good luck,  
The world walked low, when I above did sit,  
Or down did come, to trample on this muck:  
And I did swim, as dainty as a duck,  
When water serves, to keep the body brave,  
And to enjoy, the gifts that Fortune gave.   

And though my pomp, surpassed all Prelates now,  
And like a Prince I lived and pleasure took:  
That was not sure, so great a blur in brow,  
If on my works, indifferent eyes do look.  
I thought great scorn, such ●●uings here to brook,  
Except I built, some houses for the poor,  
And order took, to give great alms at door.   

A College fair, in Oxford I did make,  
A sumptuous house, a stately work indeed.  
I gave great lands, to that, for learning sake,  
To bring up youth, and succour scholars need.  
That charge of mine, full many a mouth did feed,  
When I in Court, was seeking some good turn,  
To mend my torch, or make my candle burn.   

More houses gay, I built, than thousands do  
That have enough, yet will no goodness shoe:  
And where I built, I did maintain it to,  
With such great cost, as few bestows I trow.  
Of buildings large, I could rehearse a roe,  
That by mischance, this day have lost my name,  
Whereof I do, deserve the only fame.   

And as for suits, about the King was none  
So apt as I, to speak and purchase grace.  
Though long before, some say Shore's wife was one,  
That oft kneeled down, before the Prince's face  
For poor men's suits, and holp their woeful case,  
Yet she had not, such credit as I gate,  
Although a King, would hear the parrot prate.   

My words were grave, and bore an equal poys,  
In balance just, for many a weighty cause:  
She pleased a Prince, with pretty merry toys,  
And had no sight, in state, nor course of laws:  
I could persuade, and make a Prince to paws,  
And take a breath, before he drew the sword,  
And spy the time, to rule him with a word.   

I will not say, but fancy may do much,  
Yet world will grant, that wisdom may do more:  
To wanton girls, affection is not such,  
That Princes wise, will be abused therefore:  
One suit of mine, was surely worth a score  
Of hers indeed, for she her time must watch,  
And at all hours, I durst go draw the latch.   

My voice but heard, the door was open straight,  
She might not come, till she were called or brought:  
I ruled the King, by custom, art and sleight,  
And knew full well, the secrets of his thought.  
Without my mind, all that was done was nought,  
In wars or peace, my counsel swayed all,  
For still the King, would for the Cardinal call.   

I kept a court, myself, as great as his,  
(I not compare, unto my master here)  
But look my Lords, what lively world was this,  
That one poor man, became so great a peer?  
Yet though this tale, be very strange to here,  
Wit wins a world: and who hath hap and wit,  
With triumph long, in princely throne may sit.   

What man like me, bare rule in any age,  
I shone like Sun, more clear than morning star:  
Was never part, so played, in open stage  
As mine, nor fame, of man flew half so far.  
I sat on bench, when thousands at the bar  
Did plead for right: for I in public weal  
Lord Chancellor was, and had the great broad seal.   

Now have I told, how I did rise aloft,  
And sat with pride, and pomp, in golden hall,  
And set my feet, on costly carpets soft,  
And played at goal, with goodly golden ball:  
But after, Lord, I must rehearse my fall.  
O trembling heart, thou canst not now for tears  
Present that tale, unto the hearer's ears.   

Best weep it out, and sudden silence keep,  
Till privy pangs, make pinched heart complain:  
Or cast thyself, into some slumbering sleep,  
Till wakened wits, remembrance bring again.  
When heavy tears, do hollow cheeks distain,  
The world will think, thy spirits are grown so weak,  
The feeble tongue, hath sure no power to speak.   

A tale by signs, with sighs and sobs set out,  
Moves people's minds, to pity plagued men:  
With howling voice, do rather cry and shout,  
And so by art, show forth thy sorrow then.  
For if thou speak, some man will note with pen  
What Wolsey said, and what threw Wolsey down,  
And under foot, flings Wolseis great renown.   

What force of that, my fall must needs be herd,  
Before I fell, I had a time to rise:  
As fatal chance, and Fortune me preferred.  
So mischief came, and did my state despise.  
If I might plead, my case among the wise,  
I could excuse, right much of mine offence:  
But leave a while, such matter in suspense.   

The Pope, or pride, or peevish parts of mine,  
Made King to frown, and take the seal from me:  
Now served no words, nor pleasant speeches fine,  
Now Wolsey, lo, must needs disgraced be.  
Yet had I leave (as doleful prisoner free)  
To keep a house (God wot) with heavy cheer,  
Where that I found, no wine, ne bread, nor beer.   

My time was come, I could no longer live,  
What should I make, my sorrow further known:  
Upon some cause, that King that all did give  
took all again, and so possessed his own.  
My goods, my plate, and all was overthrown,  
And look what I, had gathered many a day,  
Within one hour, was cleanly swept away.   

But hearken now, how that my Fortune fell,  
To York I must, where I the Bishop was:  
Where I by right, in grace a while did dwell,  
And was in stawle, with honour great to pass.  
The Priors then, and Abbots 'gan to smell,  
How Cardinal must, be honoured as he ought,  
And for that day, was great provision brought.   

At Cawood then, where I great buildings made,  
And did through cause, expect my stawling day,  
The King devised, a secret under shade,  
How Cardinal should, be rest and brought away.  
One Wealsh a Knight, came down in good array,  
And seasned sure, because from Court he came,  
On Wolsey wolf, that spoilt many a lamb.   

Then was I led, toward Court, like dog in string,  
And brought as beef, that Butcher-row must see.  
But still I hoped, to come before the King,  
And that repair, was not denied to me.  
But he that kept, the Tower, my guide must be.  
Ah there I saw, what King thereby did mean,  
And so I searched if conscience now were clean.   

Some spots I found, of pride and popish parts,  
That might accuse, a better man than I:  
Now Oxford came, to mind, with all their arts,  
And Cambridge too, but all not worth a fly:  
For schoolmen can, no foul defects supply.  
My sauce was sour, though meat before was sweet,  
Now Wolsey lacked, both cunning, wit, and spirit.   

A deep conceit, of that, possessed my head,  
So fell I sick, consumed as some did think.  
So took in haste, my chamber and my bed,  
On which device, perhaps the world might wink.  
But in the heart, sharp sorrow so did sink,  
That gladness sweet, (forsook my senses all)  
In those extremes, did yield unto my fall.   

O let me curse, the popish Cardinal hat,  
Those mitres big, beset with pearl and stones,  
And all the rest, of trash I know not what,  
The saints in shrine, their flesh and rotten bones,  
The mask of Monks, devised for the nonce,  
And all the flock, of Freers, what ere they are,  
That brought me up, and left me there so bare.   

O cursed priests, that prate for profits sake,  
And follow flood, and tide, where ere it flows:  
O merchants fine, that do advantage take  
Of every grain, how ever market goes.  
O fie on wolves, that march in masking cloes,  
For to devour, the lambs, when shepherd sleeps,  
And woe to you, that promise never keeps.   

You said I should, be reskude if I need,  
And you would curse, with candle, book and bell:  
But when ye should, now serve my turn indeed,  
Ye have no house, I know not where ye dwell.  
O Freers and Monks, your harbour is in hell,  
For in this world, ye have no rightful place,  
Nor dare not once, in heaven show your face.   

Your fault not half, so great as was my pride,  
For which offence, fell Lucifer from skies:  
Although I would, that wilful folly hide,  
The thing lies plain, before the people's eyes,  
On which high heart, a hateful name doth rises.  
It hath been said, of old, and daily will,  
Pride goes before, and shame comes after still.   

Pride is a thing, that God and man abores,  
A swelling toad, that poisons every place,  
A stinking wound, that breedeth many sores,  
A privy plague, found out in stately face,  
A painted bird, that keeps a peacocks pace,  
A loathsome lout, that looks like tinker's dog,  
A hellish hound, a swinish hateful hog.   

That grunts and groans, at every thing it sees,  
And holds up snout, like pig that comes from draff.  
Why should I make, of pride all these degrees,  
That first took root, from filthy dross and chaff,  
And makes men stay, upon a broken staff?  
No weakness more, then think to stand upright,  
When stumbling block, makes men to fall down right.   

He needs must fall, that looks not where he goes,  
And on the stars, walks staring gosling like:  
On sudden oft, a blustering tempest blows,  
Then down great trees are tumbled in the dike.  
Who knows the time, and hour when God will strike?  
Then look about, and mark what steps ye take,  
Before you pace, the pirgrimage ye make.   

Run not on head, as all the world were yours,  
Nor thrust them back, that cannot bide a shock:  
Who strives for place, his own decay procures:  
Who always brawls, is sure to catch a knock:  
Who beards a King, his head is near the block:  
But who doth stand, in fear, and worldly dread,  
Ere mischief comes, had need to take good heed.   

I having hap, did make account of none,  
But such as fed, my humour good or bad.  
To fawning dogs, sometimes I gave a bone,  
And flung some scraps, to such as nothing had:  
But in my hands, still kept the golden gad,  
That served my turn, and laughed the rest to scorn,  
As for himself was Cardinal Wolsey borne.   

No, no, good men, we live not for ourselves,  
Though each one catch, as much as he may get:  
We ought to look, to those that digs and delves,  
That always dwell, and live in endless det.  
If in such sort, we would our compass set,  
We should have love, where now but hate we find,  
And headstrong will, with cruel hollow mind.   

I thought nothing, of duty, love, or fear,  
I snatched up all, and always sought to climb:  
I punished all, and would with no man bear,  
I sought for all, and so could take the time.  
I plied the Prince, whiles Fortune was in prime,  
I filled the bags, and gold in hoard I heaped,  
Thought not on those, that threshed the corn I reaped.   

So all I lost, and all I gate was nought,  
And all my pride, and pomp lay in the dust:  
I ask you all, what man alive had thought,  
That in this world, had been so little trust?  
Why, all things here, with time decline they must.  
Then all is vain, so all not worth a fly,  
If all shall think, that all are borne to die.   

If all be base, and of so small account,  
Why do we all, in folly so abound?  
Why do the mean, and mighty seek to mount,  
Beyond all hope, where is no surety found,  
And where the wheel, is always turning round?  
The case is plain, if all be understood,  
Wear so vain, we know not what is good.   

Yet some will say, when they have heaps of gold,  
With flocks of friends, and servants at their call,  
They live like Gods, in pleasure treble fold,  
And have no cause, to find no fault at all.  
O blind conceit, these glories are but small,  
And as for friends, they change their minds so mich,  
They stay not long, with neither poor nor rich.   

With hope of friends, ourselves we do deceive,  
With fear of foes, we threatened are in sleep:  
But friends speak fair, yet men alone they leave  
To sink or swim, to mourn, to laugh, or weep.  
Yet when foe smiles, the snake begins to creep,  
As world falls out, these days in compass just,  
We know not how, the friend or foe to trust.   

Both can betray, the truest man alive,  
Both are to doubt, in matters of great weight,  
Both will sometime, for goods and honour strive,  
Both seemeth plain, yet both can show great sleight,  
Both stoops full low, yet both can look on height,  
And best of both, not worth a cracked crown:  
Yet lest of both, may lose a walled town.   

Talk not of friends, the name thereof is nought,  
Then trust no foes, if friends their credit lose;  
If foes and friends, of one bare earth were wrought,  
Blame near of both, though both one nature shows.  
Grace passeth kind, where grace and virtue flows,  
But where grace wants, make foes and friends alike,  
The one draws sword, the other sure will strike.   

I proved that true, by trial twenty times,  
When Wolsey stood, on top of Fortune's wheel,  
But such as to the height of ladder climes,  
Know not what lead, lies hanging on their heel.  
Tell me my mates, that heavy Fortune feel,  
If rising up, breed not a giddy brain,  
And falling down, be not a grievous pain.   

I told you how, from Cawood I was led,  
And so fell sick, when I arrested was;  
What needeth now more words herein be said,  
I knew full well, I must to prison pass,  
And saw my state, as brittle as a glass:  
So gave up ghost, and bad the world farewell,  
Wherein, God wot, I could no longer dwell.   

Thus unto dust, and ashes I returned,  
When blaze of life, and vital breath went out,  
Like glowing coal, that is to cinders burned;  
All flesh and blood, so end, you need not doubt.  
But when the brute of this was blown about,  
The world was glad, the Cardinal was in grave,  
This is of world, lo all the hope we have.   

Full many a year, the world looked for my fall,  
And when I fell, I made as great a crack,  
As doth an oak, or mighty tottering wall,  
That whirling wind, doth bring to ruin and wrack,  
Now babbling world, will talk behind my back,  
A thousand things, to my reproach and shame,  
So will it too, of others do the same.   

But what of that? the best is we are gone,  
And worst of all, when we our tales have told,  
Our open plagues will warning be to none,  
Men are by hap, and courage made so bold:  
They think all is, their own they have in hold.  
Well, let them say, and think what thing they pleas,  
This weltering world, both flows, and ebbs like seas.   Tho. Churchyard.  

HOW THE LORD CROMWELL EXALTED FROM MEAN ESTATE, was after by the envy of the Bishop of Winchester and other his complices brought to untimely end, Anno Dom. 1540  

Awaked, and trembling betwixt rage and dread  
With the loud slander (by the impious time)  
That of my actions every where is spread,  
Through which to honour falsely I should climb,  
From the sad dwelling of th' untimely dead,  
To quit me of that execrable crime,  
Cromwell appears his wretched plight to show,  
Much that can tell, one much that once did know.   

Roughly not made up in the common mould,  
That with the vulgar vilely I should die,  
What thing so strange of Cromwell is not told?  
What man more praised? who more condemned than I?  
That with the world when I am waxed old,  
Most 'twere unfit that same of me should lie  
With fables vain my history to fill,  
Forcing my good, excusing of my ill.   

You that but hearing of my hated name,  
Your ancient malice instantly bewray,  
And for my sake your ill deserved blame  
Upon my legend publicly shall lay;  
Would you forbear to blast me with defame,  
Might I so mean a privilege but pray,  
He that three, ages hath endured your wrong,  
Hear him a little that hath heard you long.   

Since Rome's sad ruin here by me began,  
Who her Religion plucked up by the root,  
Of the false world such hate for which I won,  
Which still at me her poisned'st darts doth shoot;  
That to excuse it, do the best I can,  
Little I fear my labour me will boot:  
Yet will I speak my troubled heart to ease,  
Much to the mind, herself it is to please.   

O powerful number, from whose stricter law  
Heart-moving music did receive the ground  
Which men to fair civility did draw  
With the brute beast when lawless he was found:  
O if according to the wiser saw  
There be a high divinity in sound,  
Be now abundant prosperously to aid  
The pen prepared my doubtful case to plead.   

Putney the place made blessed in my birth,  
Whose meanest cottage simply me did shroud,  
To me as dearest of the English earth;  
So of my bringing that poor village proved,  
Though in a time when never less the dearth  
Of happy wits, yet mine so well allowed  
That with the best she boldly durst confer  
Him that his breath acknowledged from her.   

Twice flowed proud Thames as at my coming wood,  
Striking the wondering borderers with fear,  
And the pale Genius of that aged flood  
Unto my mother labouring did appear,  
And with a countenance much distracted stood,  
Threatening the fruit her pained womb should bear:  
My speedy birth being added thereunto,  
Seemed to foretell that much I came to do.   

That was reserved for those worse days,  
As the great ebb unto so long a flow,  
When what those ages formerly did raise,  
This when I lived did lastly overthrow,  
And that great'st labour of the world did seize,  
Only for which immedicable blow  
Due to that time me dooming heaven ordained,  
Wherein confusion absolutely reigned.   

Vainly yet noted this prodigious sign,  
Often predictions of most fearful things,  
As plagues, or war, or great men to decline,  
Rising of Commons, or the death of Kings;  
But some strange news though ever it divine,  
Yet forth them not immediately it brings,  
Until th' effects men afterward did learn,  
To know that me it chiefly did concern.   

Whilst yet my father by his painful trade,  
Whose laboured anvil only was his fee,  
Whom my great towardness strongly did persuade  
In knowledge to have educated me:  
But death did him unluckily invade,  
Ere he the fruits of his desire could see,  
Leaving me young, then little that did know  
How me the heavens had purposed to bestow.   

Hopeless as helpless most might me suppose,  
Whose meanness seemed their abject breath to draw:  
Yet did my breast that glorious fire enclose,  
Which their dull purblind ignorance not saw,  
Which still is settled upon outward shows,  
The vulgars' judgement ever is so raw,  
Which the unworthiest sottishly do love  
In their own region properly that move.   

Yet me my fortune so could not disguise,  
But through this cloud were some that did me know,  
Which then the rest more happy or more wise,  
Me did relieve when I was driven low,  
Which as the staier by which I first did rise,  
When to my height I afterward did grow,  
Them to requite my bounties were so high,  
As made my fame through every ear to fly.   

That height and Godlike purity of mind  
Resteth not still, where titles most adorn  
With any, nor peculiarly confined  
To names, and to be limited doth scorn:  
Man doth the most degenerate from kind,  
Richest and poorest both alike are borne;  
And to be always pertinently good,  
Follows not still the greatness of our blood.   

Pity it is that to one virtuous man  
That mark him lent to gentry to advance,  
Which first by noble industry he won,  
His base issue after should enhance,  
And the rude slave not any good that can,  
Such should thrust down by what is his by chance:  
As had not he been first that him did raise,  
Near had his great heir wrought his grandsires praise.   

How weak art thou that makest it thy end  
To heap such worldly dignities on thee,  
When upon Fortune only they depend,  
And by her changes governed must be?  
Besides the dangers still that such attend,  
Liuel'est of all men purtraied out in me,  
When that for which I hated was of all,  
Soonest from me fled, scarce tarrying for my fall.   

You that but boast your ancestors proud style,  
And the large stem whence your vain greatness grew,  
When you yourselves are ignorant and vile,  
Nor glorious thing dare actually pursue,  
That all good spirits would utterly exile,  
Doubting their worth should else discover you,  
Giving yourselves unto ignoble things;  
Base I proclaim you though derived from Kings.   

Virtue but poor, God in this earth doth place  
'Gainst the rude world to stand up in his right,  
To suffer sad affliction and disgrace,  
Not ceasing to pursue her with despite:  
Yet when of all she is accounted base,  
And seeming in most miserable plight,  
Out of her power new life to her doth take,  
Lest then dismayed when all do her forsake.   

That is the man of an undaunted spirit,  
For her dear sake that offereth him to die,  
For whom, when him the world doth disinherit,  
Looketh upon it with a pleased eye,  
What's done for virtue thinking it doth merit,  
Daring the proudest menaces defy,  
More worth than life, how ere the base world rate him,  
Beloved of heaven, although the earth doth hate him.   

Injurious time, unto the good unjust,  
O how may weak posterity suppose  
Ever to have their merit from the dust,  
'Gainst them thy partiality that knows!  
To thy report o who shall ever trust,  
Triumphant arches building unto those  
Allowed the longest memory to have,  
That were the most unworthy of a grave?   

But my clear mettle had that powerful heat,  
As it not turned with all that Fortune could:  
Nor when the world me terriblest did threat,  
Could that place win which my high thoughts did hold,  
That waxed still more prosperously great,  
The more the world me strove to have controlled,  
On my own Columns constantly to stand,  
Without the false help of another's hand.   

My youthful course thus wisely did I steer,  
T'avoid those rocks my wrack that else did threat:  
Yet some fair hopes from far did still appear,  
If that too much my wants me did not let:  
Wherefore myself above myself to bear,  
Still as I grew I knowledge strove to get,  
To perfect that which in the Embryon was,  
Whose birth I found time well might bring to pass.   

But when my means to fail me I did find,  
Myself to travel presently betook,  
As much distasteful to my noble mind,  
That the vile world into my wants should look,  
And of myself industriously inclined,  
To measure others actions with my book,  
I might my judgement rectify thereby,  
In matters that were difficult and high.   

When lo it happed that fortune as my guide,  
Of me did with such providence dispose,  
That th' English Merchants then who did reside  
At Antwerp, me their Secretary chose,  
(As though in me to manifest her pride)  
Whence to those principalities I rose,  
To pluck me down, whence afterward she feared  
Beyond her power that almost she had reared.   

When first the wealthy Netherlands me trained  
In wise commerce most proper to the place,  
And from my country carefully me waned,  
That with the world did chiefly win me grace,  
Where great experience happily I gained;  
Yet here I seemed but tutored for a space,  
For high employment otherwise ordained,  
Till which the time I idly entertained.   

For having Boston business in hand,  
The charge thereof on Chambers being laid,  
Coming to Flanders happed to understand  
Of me whom he requested him to aid;  
Of which when I the benefit had scanned,  
Weighing what time at Antwerp I had stayed,  
Quickly me won fair Italy to try,  
Under a cheerful and more lucky sky:   

For what the meanest clearly makes to shine,  
Youth, wit, and courage, all in me concur  
In every project, that so powerful trine  
By whose kind working bravely I did stir,  
Which to each high and glorious design  
(The time could offer) freely did me spur,  
As forcing fate some new thing to prepare  
(Showing success) t'attempt that could me dare:   

Where now my spirit got roomth itself to show,  
To the fairest pitch doth make a gallant flight,  
From things that too much earthly were and low,  
Strongly attracted by a genuine light,  
Where higher still it every day did grow;  
And being in so excellent a plight,  
Craved but occasion happily to prove  
How much it sat each vulgar spirit above.   

The good success th' affairs of England found,  
Much praised the choice of me that had been made:  
For where most men the depth durst hardly sound,  
I held it nothing boldly through to wade  
Myself, and through the strait'st ways I wound.  
So could I act, so well I could persuade  
As merely jovial, me to mirth apply,  
Composed of freedom and alacrity.   

Not long it was ere Rome of me did ring  
(Hardly shall Rome so full days see again)  
Of freemens catches to the Pope I sing,  
Which won much licence to my countrymen,  
Thither the which I was the first did bring,  
That were unknown to Italy till then:  
Light humours them when judgement doth direct,  
Even of the wise win plausible respect.   

And those from whom that pensions were allowed,  
And here did for intelligence remain,  
Under my power themselves were glad to shroud,  
Russell and Pace yea oftentimes were fain,  
When as their names they durst not have avowed,  
Me into their society t'retaine,  
Rising before me mighty as they were,  
Great though at home, yet did they need me there.   

In foreign parts near friends I yet forsake  
That had before been deeply bound to me,  
And would again I use of them should make,  
But still my stars command I should be free,  
And all those offers lightly from me shake,  
Which to requite I fettered else might be,  
And though that oft great perils me oppungne,  
And means were weak, my mind was ever strong.   

And those great wants fate to my youth did tie  
Me from delights of those rich countries drive,  
Thereby enforced with painful industry  
Against affliction manfully to strive  
Under her burden faintly not to lie,  
But since my good I hardly must derive,  
Unto the same to make myself a way  
Through all the power against me she could lay.   

As a Comedian where my life I led,  
For so a while my need did me constrain,  
With other my poor countrymen (that played)  
Thither that came in hope of better gain,  
Whereas when Fortune seemed me low to tread  
Under her feet, she set me up again,  
Until the use me bade her not to fear  
Her good and ill that patiently could bear.   

Till Charles the fifth th' imperial power did bend  
'Gainst Rome, which Bourbon skilfully did guide,  
Which sore declining Italy did rend;  
For th' right that him her holiness denied,  
Wholly herself enforced to defend  
'Gainst him that justly punished her pride,  
To which myself I lastly did betake,  
Seeing thereof what Fortune meant to make.   

And at the siege with that great General served,  
When he did girt her stubborn waste with steel,  
Within her walls who well near being starved,  
And that with faintness she began to reel,  
Showing herself a little as she swerved:  
First her then noting I began to feel,  
She whose great power so far abroad did room,  
What in herself she truly was at home.   

That the great school of the false world was then,  
Where her's their subtle practices did vie,  
Amongst that mighty confluence of men,  
French plots propped up by English policy,  
The Germane powers, false shuffling, and again  
All countermined by skilful Italy,  
Each one in possibility to win,  
Great rests were up and mighty hands were in.   

Here first to work my busy brain was set,  
(My inclination finding it to please  
This stirring world which strongly still did whet)  
To temper in so dangerous assays,  
Which did strange forms of policies beget;  
Besides in times so turbulent as these,  
Wherein my studies hopefully did bend  
Unto that point the wisest made their end:   

And my experience happily me taught  
Into the secrets of those times to see,  
From whence to England afterward I brought  
Those slights of state delivered unto me,  
In t'which were then but very few that sought,  
Nor did with th' umour of that age agree,  
After did great and fearful things effect,  
Whose secret working few did then suspect:   

When though 'twere long it happened yet at last  
Some hopes me homeward secretly allured,  
When many perils strangely I had passed,  
As many sad calamities endured  
Beyond the Moon, when I began to cast  
By my rare parts what place might be procured,  
If they at home were to the mighty known,  
How they would seem compared with their own.   

Or if that there the great should me neglect,  
As I the worst that vainly did not fear,  
To my experience how to gain respect  
In other countries that do hold it dear,  
And now occasion seemed to reject,  
Whilst still before me other rising were,  
And some themselves had mounted to the sky,  
Little before unlike to thrive as I   

When now in England Bigamy with blood  
Lately begot by luxury and pride,  
In their great'st fullness peremptory stood;  
Some thereunto that diligently pried,  
Stillie were fishing in that troubled flood  
For future changes wisely to provide,  
Finding the world so rankly then to swell,  
That till it broke it never could be well.   

But floating long upon my first arrive,  
Whilst many doubts me seemed to appall,  
Like to a bark that with the tide doth drive,  
Having not left to fasten it withal,  
Thus with the time by suffering I do strive  
Unto that harbour doubtful yet to fall;  
Until enforced to put it to the chance,  
Casting the fairest my fortune to advance.   

Making myself to mighty Wolsey known,  
That Atlas which the government vpstaied,  
Which from mean place in little time was grown  
Up unto him, that weight upon him laid,  
And being got the nearest to his throne,  
He the more easily the great kingdom swayed,  
Leaning thereon his wearied self to breath,  
Whilst even the greatest far sat him beneath.   

Where learned More and Gardiner I met,  
Men in those times immatchable for wit,  
Able that were the dullest spirit to whet,  
And did my humour excellently fit,  
Into their rank that worthily did get  
There as their proud competitor to sit,  
One excellence to many is the mother,  
Wit doth as creatures one beget another.   

This Founder of the palaces of Kings,  
Whose veins with more than usual spirit were filled,  
A man ordained to the mighti'st things,  
In Oxford then determining to build  
To Christ a College, and together brings  
All that thereof the great foundation wills,  
There me employeth, whose industry he found  
Worthy to work upon the noblest ground.   

Yet in the entrance wisely that did fear  
Coin might fall short, yet with this work on fire,  
Wherefore such houses as Religious were  
Whose being no necessity require,  
But that the greater very well might bear,  
From Rome the Cardinal cunningly did hire,  
Winning withal his Sovereign to consent,  
Both colouring with so holy an intent.   

This like a symptom to a long disease  
Was the forerunner to this mighty fall,  
And but too unadvisedly did seize  
Upon the part that ruinated all,  
Which had the work been of so many days  
And more again, recover hardly shall:  
But lo it sunk which time did long uphold,  
Where now it lies even leveled with the mould.   

Thus thou great Rome here first waste overthrown,  
Thy future harms that blindly couldst not see,  
And in this work they only were thine own,  
Whose knowledge lent that deadly wound to thee,  
Which to the world before had they not shown,  
Near had those secrets been descried by me,  
Nor by thy wealth so many from the plough  
Worn those high types wherein they flourish now.   

After when as the Cardinal again  
Into high favour with the King me brought,  
With whom myself so well I did demean,  
As that I seemed to exercise his thought,  
And his great liking strongly did retain  
With what before my Master me had taught,  
From whose example by those Cells were small  
Sprang the subversion lastly of them all.   

Yet many a let was cast into the way,  
Wherein I ran so steadily and right,  
And many a snare my adversaries lay,  
Much wrought they with their power much with their slight,  
Wisely perceiving that my smallest stay  
Fully required the utmost of their might,  
To my ascendant hasting me to climb,  
There as the first predomining the time,   

Knowing what wealth me earnestly did woo,  
Which I through Wolsey happened had to find,  
And could the path most perfectly unto,  
The King thereafter earnestly inclined,  
Seeing besides what after I might do  
If so great power me fully were assigned,  
By all their means against me strongly wrought,  
Labouring as fast to bring their Church to nought.   

Whilst to the King continually I sue,  
And in this business faithfully did stir  
Strongly t'approve my judgement to be true  
'Gainst those who most supposed me to err,  
Nor the least means which any way I knew  
Might grace me, or my purposes prefer  
Did I omit, till won I had his ear,  
Most that me marked when least he seemed to hear.   

This wound to them thus violently given,  
Envy at me her sharpest darts doth rove,  
Affecting the supremacy of heaven,  
As the first Giants warring against jove,  
Heaped hills on hills, the Gods till they had driven  
The meanest shapes of earthly things to prove:  
So must I shift from them against me rose,  
Mortal their hate, as mighty were my foes.   

But their great force against me wholly bent  
Prevailed upon my purposes so far,  
That I my ruin scarcely could prevent,  
So momentary worldly favours are,  
That till the utmost of their spite was spent,  
Had not my spirit maintained a manly war,  
Risen they had when laid I had been low,  
Upon whose ruin after I did grow.   

When the great King their strange reports that took  
That as pernicious as they potent were,  
Which at the fair growth of my fortune struck,  
Whose deadly malice blame me not to fear,  
Me at the first so violently shook,  
That they this frame were likely down to bear,  
If resolution with a settled brow  
Had not upheld my peremptory vow.   

Yet these encounters thrust me not awry,  
Nor could my courses force me to forsake,  
After this shipwreck I again must try  
Some happier voyage hopeful still to make,  
The plots that barren long we see did lie,  
Some fitting season plentifully take,  
One fruitful harvest frankly doth restore  
What many winters hindered had before.   

That to account I strictly call my wit  
How it this while had managed my state,  
My soul in counsel summoning to sit,  
If possible to turn the course of fate,  
For ways there be the greatest things to hit,  
If men could find the peremptory gate,  
And since I once was got so near the brink  
More than before, 'twould grieve me now to sink.   

Bedford whose life (some said) that I had saved  
In Italy, one me that favoured most,  
And reverend Hails who but occasion craved  
To show his love, no less that I had cost,  
Who to the King perceiving me disgraced,  
Whose favour I unluckily had lost,  
Both with him great, a foot set in withal  
If not to stay, to qualify my fall.   

High their regard, yet higher was their hap,  
Well near quite sunk recover me that could,  
And once more get me into Fortune's lap,  
Which well myself might teach me there to hold,  
Escaped out of so dangerous a trap,  
Whose praise by me to ages shall be told,  
As the two props by which I only rose,  
When most suppressed, most trod on by my foes.   

This me to urge the praemunire won,  
Ordained in matters dangerous and high,  
In t'which the heedless Prelacy were run,  
That back unto the Papacy did fly,  
Sworn to that sea, and what before was done  
Due to the King, dispensed were thereby,  
In t'which first entering offered me the mean  
That to throw down already that did lean.   

This was to me that overflowing fours,  
From whence his bounties plentifully spring,  
Whose speedy current with unusual force  
Bore me into the bosom of the King,  
By putting him into that ready course  
Which soon to pass his purposes might bring,  
Where those which late emperiously controlled me  
Pale struck with fear stood trembling to behold me.   

When state to me those ceremonies showed  
That to so great a favourite were due,  
And Fortune still with honours did me load,  
As though no mean she in my rising knew,  
Or heaven to me more than to man had owed,  
(What to the world unheard of was and new)  
And was to other sparing of her store  
Till she could give, or ask I could no more.   

Those high preferments he upon me laid,  
Might make the world me publicly to know  
Such as in judgement rightly being weighed,  
Seemed too great for me to undergo,  
Nor could his hand from pouring on be staid  
Until I so abundantly did flow,  
That looking down whence lately I was cloame,  
Danger bid fear if further I should roam.   

For first from Knighthood rising in degree,  
The office of the jewel house my lot,  
After the Rolls he frankly gave to me,  
From whence a privy Counsellor I got,  
Chose of the Garter: and the Earl to be  
Of Essex: yet sufficient these not  
But to the great vicegerency I grew,  
Being a title as supreme as new.   

So well did me these dignities befit,  
And honour so me every way became,  
As more than man I had been made for it,  
Or as from me it had derived the name:  
Where was that man whose love I not requited  
Beyond his own imaginary aim,  
Which had me succoured nearly being driven  
As things to me that idly were not given?   

What tongue so slow the tale shall not report  
Of hospitable Friscobald and me,  
And show in how reciprocal a sort  
My thanks did with his courtesy agree,  
When as my means in Italy were short  
That me relieved, less great that would not be,  
When I of England Chancellor was made,  
His former bounties librally repaid?   

The manner briefly gentler Muse relate,  
Since oft before it wisely hath been told,  
The sudden change of unavoided fate,  
That famous Merchant reverend Friscobald  
Grew poor, and the small remnant of his state  
Was certain goods to England he had sold,  
Which in the hands of Creditors but bad,  
Small hope to get, yet lesser means he had.   

Hither his wants him forcibly constrained,  
Though with long travel both by land and seas,  
Led by this hope that only now remained,  
Whereon his fortune finally he lays,  
And if he found that friendship here were feigned,  
Yet at the worst it better should him please,  
far out of sight to perish here unknown,  
Then vnrelieued be pitied of his own.   

It chanced as I toward Westmister did ride,  
'mongst the great concourse passing to and fro,  
An aged man I happily espied,  
Whose outward looks much inward grief did show,  
Which made me note him, and the more I eyed  
Him, me thought more precisely I should know,  
Revolving long it came into my mind,  
This was the man to me had been so kind:   

Was there withal so joyed with his sight,  
(With the dear sight of his so reverend face)  
That I could scarcely keep me from t'alight,  
And in mine arms him openly embrace;  
Weighing yet (well) what some imagine might,  
He being a stranger and the public place  
Checked my affection, till some fitter hour  
On him my love effectually might shower.   

Never, quoth I, was Fortune so unjust  
As to do wrong unto thy noble heart,  
What man so wicked could betray the trust  
Of one so upright of so good desert?  
And though obey necessity thou must,  
As when the great'st the same to me thou art,  
Let me alone the last be left of all,  
That from the rest declined not with thy fall.   

And calling to a Gentleman of mine,  
Wise and discreet that well I knew to be,  
show'd him that stranger, whose dejected eyen  
Fixed on the earth near once looked up at me,  
Bid yonder man come home to me and dine  
(Quoth I) bespeak him reverently (you see)  
Scorn not his habit, little canst thou tell  
How rich a mind in those mean rags doth dwell.   

He with my name that kindly did him greet,  
Slowly cast up his deadly-moving eye,  
That long time had been fixed on his feet,  
To look no higher than his misery,  
Thinking him more calamity did greet,  
Or that I had supposed him some spy,  
With a deep sigh that from his heart he drew,  
Quoth he, his will accomplished be by you.   

My man departed and the message done,  
He whose sad heart with strange impressions struck,  
To think upon this accident begun,  
And on himself suspiciously to look,  
Into all doubts he fearfully doth run,  
Oft himself cheering, oft himself forsook:  
Strangely perplexed unto my house doth come,  
Not knowing why judged nor dreading yet his doom.   

My servants set his coming to attend,  
That were therein not common for their skill,  
Whose usage yet the former did amend:  
He hoped not good, nor guilty was of ill,  
But as a man whose thoughts were at an end,  
Fortune (quoth he) then work on me thy will,  
Wiser than man I think he were that knew  
Whence this may come, or what thereof ensue.   

His honoured presence so did me inflame,  
That though being then in presence of my Peers,  
Deign not the less to meet him as he came,  
(That very hardly could contain my tears)  
Kindly salute him, call him by his name,  
And oft together ask him how he cheers,  
With still along maintaining the extreme;  
Yet thought the man he had been in a dream.   

At length t'awake him gently I began  
With this demand, if once he did not know  
One Thomas Cromwell a poor English man,  
By him relieved when he was driven low:  
When I perceived he my remembrance wan,  
Yet with his tears it silently did show:  
I wept for woe to see mine host distressed,  
But he for joy to see his happy guest.   

Him to the Lords I published by my praise,  
And at my table, carefully him set,  
Recounting them the many sundry ways  
I was unto this gentleman in debt,  
How great he was in Florence in those days,  
With all that grace or reverence him might get:  
Which all the while yet silently he hears,  
Moisting (among) his viands with his tears.   

And to lend fullness lastly to his fate  
Great sums I gave him, and what was his due  
Made known, myself became his advocate,  
And at my charge his creditors I sue,  
Recovering him unto his former state:  
Thus he the world began by me anew,  
That shall to all posterity express  
His honoured bounty, and my thankfulness.   

But Muse recount, before thou further pass,  
How this great change so quickly came about,  
And what the cause of this sad downfall was,  
In every part the spacious Realm throughout,  
Being effected in so little space,  
Leave not thereof posterity to doubt,  
That with the world obscured else may be,  
If in this place revealed not by thee.   

If the whole land did on the Church rely,  
Having full power Kings to account to call,  
That to the world read only policy,  
Besides heavens keys to stop or let in all,  
Let me but know from her supremacy  
How she should come so suddenly to fall:  
'Twas more than chance sure put a hand thereto,  
That had the power so great a thing to do.   

Or ought there were had biding under Sun,  
Who would have thought those edifices great,  
Which first religion holily begun,  
The Church approved, and wisdom richly seat,  
Devotion nourished, faith allowance won,  
And all that them might any way complete,  
Should in their ruins lastly buried lie,  
But that begun and ended from the sky?   

And the King late obedient to her laws,  
Against the Clerk of Germany had writ,  
As he that first stirred in the Church's cause,  
Against him greatliest that oppugned it,  
And won from her so grateful an applause,  
Then in her favour chiefly that did sit,  
That as the prop, whereon she only stai'th,  
Him she instilled Defender of the faith.   

But not their power, whose wisdoms them did place  
In the first rank, the oracles of state,  
Who that opinion strongly did embrace,  
Which through the land received was of late,  
Then ought at all prevailed in this case,  
O powerful doom of unavoided fate,  
Whose depth not weak mortality can know,  
Who can uphold what heaven will overthrow?   

When time now universally did show  
The power to her peculiarly annexed,  
With most abundance then when she did flow,  
Yet every hour still prosperously she waxed,  
But the world poor did by loose riots grow,  
Which served as an excellent pretext,  
And colour gave to pluck her from her pride,  
Whose only greatness suffered none beside.   

Likewise to that posterity did doubt  
Those at the first not rightly did adore,  
Their fathers that too credulous devout  
Unto the Church contributed their store,  
And to recover only went about  
What their great zeal had lavished before,  
On her a strong hand violently laid,  
Preying on that, they gave for to be prayed.   

And now the King set in a course so right,  
Which I for him laboriously had tract,  
(Who till I learned him, did not know his might)  
I still to prompt his power with me to act,  
Into those secrets got so deep a sight,  
That nothing last to his furtherance lacked,  
And by example plainly to him shown,  
How all might now be easily overthrown.   

In taking down yet of this goodly frame  
He suddenly not brake off every band,  
But took the power first from the Papal name,  
After a while let the Religion stand,  
When limb by limb he daily did it lame,  
First took a leg, and after took a hand,  
Till the poor semblance of a body left,  
But all should stay it, utterly bereft.   

For if some Abbey happened void to fall  
By death of him that the superior was,  
Gain that did first Church liberty enthrall,  
Only supreme, promoted to the place,  
'mongst many bad the worst most times of all,  
Under the colour of some others grace,  
That by the slander from his life should spring,  
Into contempt it more and more might bring.   

This time from heaven when by the secret course,  
Dissension universally began,  
(Prevailing as a planetary source)  
I'th' Church believing, as Mahumitan,  
When Luther first did those opinions nurse,  
Much from great Rome in little space that wan,  
It to this change so aptly did dispose,  
From whose sad ruin ours so great arose.   

That here that fabric utterly did fail,  
Which powerful fate had limited to time,  
By whose strong law it naturally must quail,  
From that proud height to which it long did climb,  
Letting 'gainst it the contrary prevail,  
Therein to punish some notorious crime,  
For which at length just dooming heaven decreed,  
That on her buildings ruin here should feed.   

Th' authority upon her she did take,  
And use thereof in every little thing,  
Finding herself how oft she did forsake,  
In her own bounds her never limiting,  
That awful fear and due obedience broke  
Which her reputed holiness did bring,  
From slight regard soon brought her into hate  
With those that much disliked her estate.   

And that those parts she cunningly had played,  
Belief unto her miracles to win,  
Unto the world were every day be wraied,  
From which the doubt did of her power begin,  
Damnation yet to question what she said  
Made most suspect the faith they had been in,  
When their salvation easily might be bought,  
Found not this yet the way that they had sought.   

When those ill humours ripened to a head,  
Bred by the rankness of the plenteous land,  
And they not only strangely from her fled,  
Bound for her ancient liberty to stand,  
But what their fathers gave her being dead,  
The sons raped from her with a violent hand,  
And those her buildings most of all abused,  
That with the weight their father's coffins bruised.   

The wisest and most provident but build,  
For time again too wastefully destroy,  
The costly piles and monuments we gild,  
Succeeding time shall reckon but a toy,  
Vicissitude impartially wild,  
The goodliest things be subject to annoy,  
And what one age did studiously maintain,  
The next again accounteth vile and vain.   

Yet time doth tell, in some things they did err,  
That put their help her bravery to deface,  
When as the wealth, that taken was from her,  
Others soon raised, that did them displace,  
Their titles and their offices confer  
On such before, as were obscure and base,  
Who would with her they likewise down should go,  
And o'rthrew them that her did overthrow.   

And th' Romish rites that with a clearer sight  
The wisest thought they justly did reject,  
They after saw that the received light  
Not altogether free was from defect,  
Mysterious things being not conceived right,  
Thereof bred in the ignorant neglect,  
For in opinion something short doth fall,  
Wants there have been and shall be still in all.   

But negligent security and ease  
Unbridled sensuality begat,  
That only sought his appetite to please,  
As in the midst it of abundance sat,  
The Church not willing others should her praise  
That she was lean, when as her lands were fat,  
Herself to too much liberty did give,  
Which some perceived that in those times did live.   

Pierce the wise Ploughman in his vision saw  
Conscience sore hurt, yet sorer was afraid  
The seven great sins to hell him like to draw,  
And to wise Clergy mainly cried for aid;  
Fallen ere he wist (whom peril much did awe)  
On unclean Priests whilst faintly he him stayed,  
Willing good Clergy t'ease his wretched case,  
Whom these strong Giants hotly had in chase.   

Clergy called Friars which near at hand did dwell,  
And them requests to take in hand the cure,  
But for their Leechcraft that they could not well,  
He listed not their dressing to endure,  
When in his ear Need softly him did tell  
(And of his knowledge more did him assure)  
They came for gain their end which they did make,  
For which on them the charge of souls they take.   

And voluntary poverty professed,  
By food of Angels seeming as to live;  
But yet with them th' accounted were the best  
That most to their fraternity do give,  
And beyond number that they were increased:  
If so (quoth Conscience) thee may I believe,  
Then 'tis in vain more on them to bestow,  
If beyond number like they be to grow.   

The Friar soon feeling Conscience had him found,  
And hearing how Hypocrisy did thrive,  
That many Teachers every where did wound,  
For which Contrition miserably did grieve:  
Now in deceit to show himself profound,  
His former hopes yet last to revive  
Gets the Pope's letters, whereof he doth shape  
Him a disguise from Conscience to escape.   

And so towards goodly Unity he goes,  
A strong-built Castle standing very high,  
Where Conscience lived to keep him from his foes,  
Whom lest some watchful Sentinel should spy,  
And him unto the garrison disclose,  
His cowl about him carefully doth tie,  
Creeps to the gate and closely thereat beat,  
As one that entrance gladly would entreat.   

Peace the good porter ready still at hand  
It doth unpin, and prays him God to save,  
And after salving kindly doth demand  
What was his will, or who he there would have?  
The Friar low lowting crossing with his hand,  
Speak with Contrition (quoth he) I would crave.  
Father (quoth Peace) your coming is in vain,  
For him of late Hypocrisy hath slain.   

God shield (quoth he) and turning up the eyes,  
To former health I hope him to restore,  
For in my skill his sound recovery lies,  
Doubt not thereof if setting God before.  
Are you a surgeon, Peace again replies;  
Yea (quoth the Friar) and sent to heal his sore:  
Come near (quoth Peace) and God your coming speed,  
Never of help Contrition had more need.   

And for more haste he haileth in the Friar,  
And his Lord Conscience quickly of him told,  
Who entertained him with right friendly cheer:  
O Sir (quoth he) entreat you that I could  
To lend your hand unto my Cousin dear  
Contrition, whom a sore disease doth hold,  
That wounded by Hypocrisy of late,  
Now lieth in most desperate estate.   

Sir (quoth the Friar) I hope him soon to cure,  
Which to your comfort quickly you shall see,  
Will he a while my dressing but endure;  
And to contrition therewith cometh he,  
And by fair speech himself of him assure,  
But first of all going through for his fee:  
Which done (quoth he) if outwardly you show  
Sound, t'not avails if inwardly or no.   

But secretly assoiling of his sin,  
No other medicine will unto him lay,  
Saying that heaven his silver him should win,  
And to give Friars was better than to pray,  
So he were shrieued what need he care a pin.  
Thus with his patient he so long did play,  
Until contrition had forgot to weep,  
This the wise ploughman show'd me from his sleep.   

He saw their faults, that loosely lived then,  
Others again our weaknesses shall see:  
For this is sure he bideth not with men  
That shall know all to be what they should be:  
Yet let the faithful and industrious pen  
Have the due merit; but return to me,  
Whose fall this while blind Fortune did devise,  
To be as strange as strangely I did rise.   

Those secret foes yet subtly to deceive,  
That me maligning lifted at my state,  
The King to marry forward still I heave,  
(His former wife being repudiate)  
To Anne the sister of the Duke of Cleave,  
The Germane Princes to confederate,  
To back me still 'gainst those against me lay,  
Which as their own retained me here in pay.   

Which my destruction principally wrought,  
When afterward abandoning her bed,  
Which to his will to pass could not be brought,  
So long as yet I bear about my head  
The only man her safety that had sought,  
Of her again and only favoured,  
Which was the cause he hasted to my end,  
Upon whose fall hers likewise did depend.   

For in his high distemperature of blood  
Who was so great whose life he did regard?  
Or what was it that his desires withstood  
He not invested were it near so hard?  
Nor held he me so absolutely good,  
That though I crossed him yet I should be spared,  
But with those things I lastly was to go,  
Which he to ground did violently throw.   

When Winchester with all those enemies  
Whom my much power from audience had debarred,  
The longer time their mischiefs to devise,  
Feeling with me how lastly now it fared,  
When I had done the King that did suffice,  
Lastly thrust in against me to be heard,  
When all was ill contrarily turned good,  
Making amain to th' shedding of my blood.   

And that the King his action doth deny,  
And on my guilt doth altogether lay,  
Having his riot satisfied thereby,  
Seems not to know how I therein did sway,  
What late was truth converted heresy:  
When he in me had purchased his prey,  
Himself to clear and satisfy the sin,  
Leaves me but late his instrument therein.   

Those laws I made, myself alone to please,  
To give me power more freely to my will,  
Even to my equals hurtful sundry ways,  
(Forced to things that most do say were ill)  
Upon me now as violently cease,  
By which I lastly perished by my skill,  
On mine own neck returning (as my due)  
That heavy yoke wherein by me they drew   

My greatness threatened by ill-boding eyes,  
My actions strangely censured of all,  
Yet in my way my giddiness not sees  
The pit wherein I likely was to fall:  
O were the sweets of man's felicities  
Often amongst not tempered with some gall,  
He would forget by his ore weening skill,  
Just heaven above doth censure good and ill.   

Things over rank do never kindly bear,  
As in the corn the fluxure, when we see  
Fill but the straw when it should feed the ear,  
Rotting that time in ripening it should be,  
And being once down itself can never rear:  
With us well doth this simile agree,  
(By the wise man) due to the great in all,  
By their own weight b'ing broken in their fall.   

Self loving man what sooner doth abuse,  
And more than his prosperity doth wound?  
Into the deep but fall how can he choose  
That over-strides whereon his foot to ground?  
Who sparingly prosperity doth use,  
And to himself doth after-ill propound,  
Unto his height who happily doth climb,  
Sits above Fortune, and controlleth time.   

Not choosing that us most delight doth bring,  
And most that by the general breath is freed,  
Wooing that suffrage; but the virtuous thing  
Which in itself is excellent indeed,  
Of which the depth and perfect managing  
Amongst the most, but few there be that heed,  
Affecting that agreeing with their blood,  
Seldom enduring never yet was good.   

But whilst we strive too suddenly to rise  
By flattering Princes with a servile tongue,  
And being soothers to their tyrannies,  
Work our more woes by what doth many wrong,  
And unto others tending injuries,  
Unto ourselves it happeneth oft among  
In our own snares unluckily are caught,  
Whilst our attempts fall instantly to nought.   

The Counsel Chamber place of my arrest,  
Where chief I was, when greatest was the store,  
And had my speeches noted of the best,  
That did them as high Oracles adore:  
A Parliament was lastly my inquest,  
That was myself a Parliament before,  
The Tower hill scaftold last I did ascend:  
Thus the great'st man of England made his end.   Michael Drayton. 
FINIS.